Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Easy - slant sonnet circlet

Easy rolls me down the steps in footsprings, racing gravity.
Gravity loves me round, doughy, the sweet thing you take a bite out of.

Of all the granddaughters I am the last, knocked down, fighting lazy.
Lazy is like easy but harder, sadder. Lazy is stuck, but for grownups.

Grownups sprouting where you don't look, painting a picture.
Picture us all a bouquet, arms and waists, family is overbright.
Overbright where fading's a gentler thing, softer would feel easy.


Easy clouds the windows with a slow start, a rainy breakfast.
Breakfast the sharp beginning, all day the downhill chorus.

Chorus the chirpy memories swearing: it was always like this!
This is the loping way of the days. They were straight and sly.

Sly the sneaking sense now: time springs detours and do-overs.
Do-overs, dominoes, falling and rising their snaking refrains.
Refrains and endings. Falling and falling is easy.

No comments:

Post a Comment