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Monday, February 23, 2004 |
I'm tired and sort of out of steam without a sonnet to write tonight, so here's one from Kim Addonizio's The Philosopher's Club to send me off:
Lullaby
This hammock, slung between two trees, exists
so there might stumble to it, drunk, one night
with a blanket, three people the moon enlists
to remind itself it's lovely, like the white
back of a woman bathing as she kneels
at the edge of a river, lifting the shivering water
to her face in cupped hands. Which now is the real
tableau: this luminous, naked body, or
the three friends? Rocking quietly, their heads
close together, they are almost happy. Each
has separate sorrows, and in their separate beds
they'll feel this moment moving out of reach,
receding. But let's keep them touching here
a little longer, voices raised against the air.
8:45:45 PM 
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
2006 Michael Snider.
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