I was a tree house Sonnet

When I was a tree house a blizzard
occurred to me I am going
to be loved
green and gray
all the way upward through time and to everywhere.

I’m partway there. I am blue.
I don’t have complementary colors and I can’t watch
the full moon. I, a cartoon something, understand the feeling
as it swells. You’re my cutie.

It’s almost midnight now,
it’s snowing. We already know this very moment
The stars are water and plenty and happy

to make the bed your secret (yes, that’s it)
with your fables that suggests heaven is still
fresh with fairies and a little doggie.

 

 

(experiment with Ron Padgett’s How to Be Perfect)

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Filed under Erasure, Experiment, Form, Michigan, Michigan Writer, Poems, Poetry, Reading, Revisitations, Sonnets, Summer, Writing

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