Category Archives: The Sonnets

50

… I am singular and we are plural. I see us walking on the busy street and waiting for the bus. Each day I meet him, Walt Whitman, whose kind face I see all over the place. Or I am … Continue reading →

36

28 May ’12

… I see how strong a fragile thing can be. Look! A butterfly comes fluttering over its own reflection hovering out in the middle of a pond so deep and close you’d think no insect strength could last the distance … Continue reading →

24

20 May ’12

… The sun is bright reflected on water shimmering it to pieces. With too much light I’m blind. They say when we see God up close we die. I’m pretty sure I’ve never looked on God up close but every … Continue reading →

Five Sonnets

4 May ’12

… I focused on these sonnets, part of Sonnets 1 – 60, this late winter and spring prior to a reading I was going to do in Philly and managed to change most of the things that bothered me about … Continue reading →

74

5 Apr ’12

… I saw the bluebird first, its beating soft Red breast. Young water snake, I looked for it Next settled near the dock but it hadn’t Risen yet or already’d slithered off. The pond’s cold. I won’t dive in. It … Continue reading →

69

4 Apr ’12

… Happy children hunted for eggs and went bursting through the bushes. I’d hurriedly made them before that unexpectedly fast, put off for so long in a moment fun, boiled, dyed and done. Morning’s over. The afternoon has found a … Continue reading →

68

4 Apr ’12

… Had I left sooner or later it would All have been different, but I didn’t And got into two arguments, one in A store and one on the sidewalk about The neighborhood with two freeloaders who Do nothing, yet … Continue reading →

103

30 Mar ’12

… I woke up from a dream before daylight. I’d dreamt I tried to make a living plant into a work of art. It didn’t work. Trying to make it sculpture-hard it died. I was in a room with other … Continue reading →

67

25 Mar ’12

… I used to clean cat vomit up but now I don’t unless it’s in the path I walk Otherwise it can stay unlike broken glass or garbage with day old fish in it. In less than an hour or … Continue reading →

25

20 Mar ’12

… My cat and I play chasing each other. He jumps while I write and then stretches out full length in back of the warm computer to claw my hand when it comes in sight. Ouch! Ow! I say but … Continue reading →

22

17 Mar ’12

… The fortunate fish escaped from the net knows what it is like to go to heaven. Is life the net? Is that what Buddha meant? Are the holes in the hands the nails nail in not only bleeding, but … Continue reading →

19

14 Mar ’12

… My hands are numb and yet the sun is bright. It’s early spring when death becomes alive. Crows caw, geese honk and the mallards quack at The pond. The ice is gone but at the back Of the barn … Continue reading →