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May

entry picture

The autumn leaves an ill-defined unease
that (while the summer flourished) I’d ignored.
The litany begins. We can’t afford
the oil we need to buy before the freeze;
they’ve forecast snow: we need to fix the tiles
that blew away before the summer came,
fit plastic shrouds on every window-frame;
there isn’t any salt in stock for miles.
       Yet soon I’ll wake, and March will fall behind,
       and though the winter’s dark was death, it’s done,
       as every tree salutes the sudden sun
       with leaves that bring the healing of my mind:
a spring to clean away the winter’s dust.
My will returns. May will return. It must.

First published in 14 by 14, July 2010.

◄ On not being a cat

Fury said to a fish ►

Comments

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Marnanel Thurman

Tue 1st May 2012 13:17

Thank you! And yes, the "garden path" beginning (and the added distractor of the leaf picture) were deliberate.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Tue 1st May 2012 12:56

I like the very ordinary events and worries 'sonnet-ized', and the respect for quite rigid form. Current sonnets have a delightful verbal mixture of literary periods, like a potpourri. Your theme is fairly common, and has many supporters. I happen to like winter, and never think of it as 'dead'.

I'm presuming 'The autumn leaves...', and the picture, are a humorous snare to catch the unwary reader?

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John Coopey

Mon 30th Apr 2012 20:39

Superby crafted, TT.
The others have said it all.

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Yvonne Brunton

Mon 30th Apr 2012 18:22

Superbe, Monsieur le roi des sonnets, je vous salue.

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M.C. Newberry

Mon 30th Apr 2012 15:31

The quality continues!

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jane wilcock

Mon 30th Apr 2012 15:10

This is lovely, death to life, frost to warmth.

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alisonsmiles68@gmail.com

Mon 30th Apr 2012 15:05

oooh, a very haunting sonnet. I loved the volta from the practicalities to the whimsical musings. The final line is fantastic.

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