a sonnet roosting in a tree

July 16, 2017

(After Ted Hughes’ Hawk Roosting)

 

 

From buds of sycamore I shall unfurl,

as drip by drip with words insinuate

my waxy sap, ink wet. I seek to curl

about your nerves with words; articulate

the unctious waves, retorts so worldly-wise

with wit. Recount each phrase of the absurd

or tender note as I identify

as ‘poem’ in the general sense of word.

I'll twist and fly my fluttered planes, my seeds

to spaces white, of stanza mystery

you'll try to understand my writ-hand deeds,

your eyes are veiled to my self-mastery.

To find me, look above the canopy

of human lexical dichotomy.

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