Sonnet for Mark
       

Now wakes a path between the oaks, now

falls a spell of dove and frog, and stones

dream of their mountain clans and each stick

breaks to hear its name. Now light edges creek

and water appears as a quick coin trick or

silk pulled from a funnel of months, now

behind us, at last, and shade and sky fill

the mirror moving from next to next. Now

do you see there is no stillness to this world?

Even in sleep a seed is knitting its breach

from the dark and the body hums

on the march to becoming less and right

now words depart then arrive, like a brush

returning to a well of color.

Tweet
Copyright © 2019 Emma Trelles All rights reserved
from Spillway
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission