Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Sonnet 31: Ending Winter

By Aurin Squire

"It's not long now," walked the winnowed voices
Hushed footfalls whispering round the red room.
All the hemming and hawing over choices,
Winter's wedding dance with the autumn groom.

This dancer turns cold, while that one coughs rouge
And the band beats the pace with their fists.
One touch unveiling the subterfuge
Of the bride covered in November mist.

Light gently kisses the slate covered sky,
Murdering black crows blanket the air
With the vows sealed, the wedding flock cries
bride and groom steel eyes and icy stares.

What did we do to deserve such a double?
Our mumbled prayers for marital trouble.

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