Day Sonnet
John Clare Stokes
Can one make his day into a sonnet?
See in pines the mimicking of the clouds?
Board a school bus with no students upon it?
Spot a cyclist behind a sign shrouded?
I tried while beginning upon a rosy path
In the distance another to set out in search of
Another in pink pushed past the laundromat
As another broken down sought help above.
My way seemed as upon a half horse road
Riff with the proverbial fowl crossing me up
A field to infinity to carry my tortured load
Leaping limbs impaling me in mid jump.
As the last Bud truck headed for the coast
Even the temple seemed a haven of dopes
Beside me at the light one daydreamed mindlessly
Behind me another simply crossed illegally.
Deliver me from this Babel of sonnet
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