Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Monday, June 14, 2021

Sonnet #336

When daylight breaks across this little path

That crosses between the house and cars,

The tiny weeds I have fought so hard

Rise up and rise up and spread their laugh

The laughter of the harlequin in pumpkin’s shadow

The laughter of the mice among the mulch

The feral cats of our small street sneer and skulk

And the ants in all their industry work and know

I am just a passenger across these territories

The quiet kingdoms of the world see me

A kind of earthquake, a passing disaster, a story

They tell to the littlest among them, in me

The flood, perhaps, the indifferent foot or palm,

In this indifference to them, I walk on, and on.

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