Monthly Archives: October 2010

Sonnets

Defrosted

No frozen ground-swell damages my wall,
And all the warrens have been hunted out.
My neighbor’s apples withered in the drought,
While since the fire I’ve got no pines at all.
What woods are left are never filled with snow,
Nor crossed by grassy paths just wanting wear.
I seldom stop; the thought that strikes me there
Is how I rue that no more hemlocks grow.
Some say the world will end in fire, while some
In water that erodes the shore defense.
From what I’ve seen so far of man’s good sense,
I doubt it matters much. The end will come.
So all our wealth and words will wash away
Or burn to ash. For nothing gold can stay.

(Originally posted on a thread on climate change on Making Light)

Villanelles

I always think of you on boats

I always think of you on boats,
Remember you on river ferries
Among the cycles and the coats.

The breeze is singing minor notes:
A tune whose timbre never varies.
I always think of you on boats.

Above the deck, a seagull floats,
Its cries the windstorm steals and buries
Among the cycles and the coats.

A single drop of rain denotes
That summer comfort never tarries.
I always think of you on boats.

Inside the cabin, sun strikes motes
Of dust the autumn windstorm carries
Among the cycles and the coats.

At last to dock the ferry floats
To journey’s end, as winter harries.
I always think of you on boats
Among the cycles and the coats.

(I don’t usually do villanelles. Oh, well.)