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July 04, 2022

Sonnet V

By Bernie Pilarski

Sonnet V

I can hear the wind's throaty voice outside.
Its chill fingers reach me even within,
Chasing the warmth from the room where I hide
From the consequences of mine own sin.

The heavy drapes of the windows are drawn
Though the room is no darker than my mood,
As I wait with trepidation for dawn
And the sun which will once again delude

Me into thinking that the day will be
Different, better, a virgin canvas,
Filled with promise and a cup of sweet tea,
And not a genuine pain in the ass.

But who knows? Today I may learn to elude
The expense of my moral turpitude.






Article © Bernie Pilarski. All rights reserved.
Published on 2020-02-03
Image(s) are public domain.
1 Reader Comments
ralph bland
02/03/2020
02:36:38 PM
Guilty as charged, Bernie. Once more into the labyrinth. You jump back, Jack, and do it again.
This is the kind of sonnet I can understand and identify with.
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