365 Sonnets. #23. 12–31–17
Sometimes I gaze and hold quite still to please
allowing darkness to consume my lung.
it suffocates in motion slow, like bees
dying off quiet in a silent hum.
“What a time to be ALIVE!” he said and tossed
his paper down. “I can’t,” I said, a song
only for me as brushing past he lost
the orange I’d picked and squeezed all morning long.
sometimes I feel an ache, so deep, I shrink
in bones I never knew I had. and oh-
the mail man walks up toward my door, I think-
Deliver me like unexpected snow-
a burden beautiful in stillness- I’ll
be still. like snow. like bees. just for a while.