Monday, August 16, 2010

Sonnet

Dawn Potter

Once I had a boyfriend (you'll laugh, I know)
Who strolling at midnight through a yellow-brick alley
Grasped both my cold hands and sweetly bellowed
"My Girl" into the small wind that ebbed and sallied
Between our shadows. I'd known him for a week.
He stared into my eyes and slowly decanted Motown
Into the chill particulate air. Ignoring us, a plane idly streaked
Toward Philly, a bus hooted, a few cars sifted by. I looked down
At our four trapped hands: bowled over, yes, though fighting
A queasy embarrassment. But you know, better than most,
What I mean: how unreal it feels to play at romance, gliding
Slickly beyond your homely self like a ballroom ghost,

As if your everyday, tempted, shivering skin
Couldn't perform a truer rendition.

[This poem appeared in the Aurorean (spring/summer 2010).]

Dinner tonight: New potatoes with new bacon. New broccoli with new mesclun. Chocolate cake.

3 comments:

charlotte gordon said...

I like the surprise of the "you." What a beautiful sonnet.

And, as for that AMazon review, who knows what goes through people's minds when they write that stuff. Don't read them. And tell us all to go onto Amazon and write reviews. But no need to read those either.

Maureen said...

"...how unreal it feels to play at romance...."

What a wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing it.

Dawn Potter said...

I was writing a diary in sonnets for a while, as I was copying out Shakespeare's sonnets. The project was sort of depressing but interesting also. I wrote a lot of bad sonnets, however.