Sonnet August One
Dear Skye; I walked into August tonight—it’s wild!
There’s no wonder summer has to end; imagine
if it didn’t. We’d all be pistil-whipped
by lashes of Queen Anne’s Lace or overwhelmed
by awe. Speaking of which, while walking I saw
forty or so barn swallows—you know the bird—
it’s not the Capistrano kind, still it’s cool—
it’s small with swept-back wings like a stealth bomber—
well they were swarming in a congregation—
well more like indecisive shoppers in
a mall flitting back and forth from store
to store—a choreographed chaotic dance
of natural construct which always threatened to
get out of order but somehow never did.
~Son Rivers 2005
A DIFFERENT FOURTH OF JULY
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I have looked for a suitable poem for the 4th of July this year. I examined
several old examples. All the while, however, there was a very unpleasant
feeli...
7 hours ago
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