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Middle Falls Sonnet
Sodden leaves reveal the spring; and
I haven’t
had a word in weeks. I drive to
McCloud Falls.
Water flashes everywhere, the
world is a marsh:
where before lay snow; now sky
in mirror-shards.
Penitents in coats witness the
lower falls’ veils;
their laughter, their handsome
families; I desire
an instant for myself. Where snow and
shadow
ward them back, I wade in. Mine’s a
pilgrimage.
I battle drifts a mile, more; a lost elk, a winter
raven. Why am I so compelled? To
what vain end
do I hope to genuflect in wet
jeans? My numb mind
wanders: will I have any words to write poetry
this summer? Can I bear it
any longer? I lift my head:
between pines, God has done
something up ahead.
Tony
D’Souza
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