Rekindled love again, as bluebells bloom
in breeze that gently stirred the canopies
composing symphonies: we were the spring:
the pink of cherry bloom, the entropy
of conversations missed, the years we lost
defusing minefields and to papercuts
of ice — but ember still would cover costs.
We made up plans — but suddenly rebut:
an envelope of test results; your doubts
“It could be nothing”, but your smile was pale
that night was lead and in my mouth the drought
of time that stopped and in our verdant dale
a pair of crows had settled to define
the darkness lurking deep among the pines.
This is my 12th installment for the sonnet corona. This is a project that I will probably never repeat, I’m struggling to conclude the narrative of the struggles, I am considering to give it a set of editing and then produce a book. It has been very interesting to match the steps to different prompts. I will link this to poetry pantry tomorrow.
Previous installments of this series are: Bluebells, The tear of tears, Before the monsters, When we had built a nest, Let’s mend the bridges, Your icicles, Our highway through the sky, The emptiness of brine, Of carnivores and feeble frills, Silver filigree and Your words: perfume
April 25, 20