sonnet of becoming
by scott from jail

You were not what the wind said you were,
nor the sky's promise, as if the waving wheat
measured time by the hand-shakes sweeping over the field
nor what the deep soil meant when it slandered sky by being

You were not the final nor the beginning of something, no
these were just the thoughts of something, mysterious, perhaps, and then
like the breeze covering the valley with a wreath of simple flowers
gone, and nothing more

You were not a harbinger of hope, no, not even that, with all the sadness
seeping by
nor in the canals that brought water to the side
nor the blue in them

Perhaps you were a reason, maybe an echo of something more,
or less, perhaps a memory to be made, left, dropped unceremoniously
a former friend, a smile that is not wanted anymore
a flower torn

No, in these sonnets you were hardly an echo, or a couplet,
or a rhythm. No, not even that.

Copyright © 2013 - scott from jail
Published: 6/20/13   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem