a sonnet in situ


White Feather

The mist envelope steamed open
air turned tears unstuck the fold
creased as a magpie’s cackle
at dawn we house us at night
them who do us harm
refining thoughts with tariff
meeting murderous connections
with innuendoes and cupped hands
in unlikely prayer.
Mizzle parts sky
into clouds and chem trail hemispheres
birth by birth stripped bare
the secret state of us is written of
when writing disappears


m. dunlop

“I’ve been working with sonnet form for a couple of years now, the word comes from the Italian for ‘little song’. I think of the 14 lines as a sort of  ‘thought bomb’ where contrasting ideas can be compelled to meet quickly, collide, cohabit, echoing around each other, almost like characters in themselves, an overheard chat sketched down quickly (although there’s not really any such thing as ‘quick’ when it comes to poetry!”


One response to “a sonnet in situ

  1. Pingback: After the War by Jotamario Arbeláez | thepoetrypoint·

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