A Sonnet for Now

If, sometime in the night, you wake to something like a howl,
something distant and everywhere, a scream, a curse,
a sound like wind trapped in a tin can filled with shrapnel.
If you wake to a noise from all four cardinal directions,

a sharp note played as clear as shattered glass, it’s pitch
beginning somewhere near the moon and falling into your father’s
grave or the grave of those who couldn’t see other options.
If, sometime tonight, something wails to you as if from the deepest

trench in your brain and pulls you back into the black
hourless space of your room, I want you to know I have heard it too.
It haunts me. It has haunted me, from the moment I understood
that nothing makes sense in this life. Nothing, except this precise,

measureless moment, this eternal now in which you are reading
a poem I am still, somehow, composing.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s