Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Sonnet #305

We walk in shadows in our heads
We stumble blind from room to room
As the shin bumps we learn our path to bed
This is a metaphor for how we speak and groan
It’s a symbol, of course, this living in a house
With other people in it, where we walk in the dark
Squint into the slanted light and seek a spouse
We will bump into each other, soft and hard
So these familiar steps will bend towards painless paths
Our fellow housemates bump and wander, and lest
The metaphor extend too far beyond the grass
Of night, let’s just say the dark must be addressed
And all who speak will claim the path ahead
Always sing out where future footfalls lead

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