On Poets’s Wings

A Year of Sonnets #77

Photo by Amanda Belec on Unsplash

If you indulge in words perhaps they’ll fly
like butterflies into your outstretched hand,
a million little miracles, the sky
endowing faerie lights, once bound to land,
with perfect lightness. You, once chained by stone,
may taste the higher airs, ionic thoughts
that permeate the stratosphere, alone —
save for the lonely poets that get caught
now and again, before they flutter down
and back to ground whereon uncertain feet
may falter — though they wear a laurel crown
their bodies fail them on the roughshod street.

So let them sit, serene, and raise a pen
that they might be inspired once again.