August Sonnet Seven
Before the fireworks, the spark and crack,
the western sky, still lit with northern flare,
descends, that horizontal weakening,
into darkness, obscurity secured,
with some, a little a lot you give or take,
hesitation, the mist before the abyss.
The crowd amassed, dominus vobiscum,
along the river, et cum spiritu tuo,
urges, “always the procreant urge of the world,”
it on—it off, it on, it off, it on—
And so we desire, the respiration of self,
the night, that dark inexplicable delight,
when promised, expecting to be strictly astonished,
something so bright, oh dynamite satellite!
~Son Rivers 2005
AGING PERHAPS, BUT NEVER OLD
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I do not advocate making this kind of hokku a habit, because it tends to
perpetuate the notion of the verse form as a kind of flippant game.
Nonetheless, t...
1 day ago

1 comment:
Shouldn't your sonnet follow some kind of rhyming pattern or iambic pentameter?
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