I found a sonnet on my path today Ironically it sat right on the trail Just past the point where nuts would often lay I often forage words to no avail
But this time I picked up a whole damn verse The squirrels had passed it by like something bad A nut with weevil larvae or much worse I guess they didn’t see it like I had
I heard the sonnet fall through autumn leaves I heard it just before the bridge, the brook Inviting me to cross what it believes That sonnets may be found if one will look
I think i heard the brook call out my name A forager, a sonneteer, the same.
This entry was posted on Friday, October 18th, 2024 at 2:27 pm and is filed under Images, Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
