“Somewhere in the Sun of Sonnet Rays”
A lazy breath will clear
and breastbone
leave the deserted stone
beneath smooth waters
call us back
there’s checked coats in phone booths
and you are sheer and shimmering
and you are the gloved boots
the tousled hair
the midnight goblins riding for a final raid
for all the trendsetters are looting
and whatever we bake
crumbles in oven mitts.
nicholauspatnaude 