Two Posthumous Sonnets

1. Cemetery Birds

Birds live in trees and sometimes you may see
Through leaves some feather color of the sky
And when they quit a twig, it quivers. My
That’s all there’s to it since eternity.

Do I watch birds, I judge we weigh too much
We should be just as lightsome as they are
This morbid overweight has led too far
Once faced with birds, I suppose we should be such.

We didn’t want to have us burned despite
The truth that soft flesh, not stiff bone had made
Us rise and stand and love, barely afraid
To leave for a brief spell this uterine night.

Do I consider you down there I think
Of cemetery birds as our closest link.


2. Walls

Your love perfused the bricks where it remains
To keep the house alive, its walls in place.
Sheltered, comforted, windowed by your face
I put my trust in cracks and water stains.

Inside grows outside throughout life, somehow
A skeleton of everlasting youth
These narrow walls form an adventure booth
And hamper less than what they dare allow.

Back then, we had no brickwork to dissever
No cold nor mold to keep us close and tight
Both bathing in one same natural light
Secured by this dear falseness of forever.

Walls look like beacons when so full of past.
I poke in bearings that went out too fast.


August 29, 2022