Bee at Dawn {a sonnet}

We worked all night, under white-roofed hood,
praying for sun-ripened blooms to bear
fruit forbidden by sullen shadow’s stare.
We who woke to partly cloudy understood
(in part), knowing we were the ones who could.
Day by day, stepping toward our dogged fear,
toward a sweet, petaled puppeteer,
year after pre-dawn year (none yielding as it should).

So I step toward sunlit morning, stubborn
in my own way, cold and soberly clutching
last night’s vigil, last year’s vacuous words to warn.
And with new prayers, I begin again to cling
and crawl, placing word after word on pages torn–
a busy bee, bumbling free, flying from a honeyed thing.

{We’ve been challenged to write a sonnet at dVerse this month and to try using enjambment. I chose the Petrarchan sonnet form. I’m glad we have been given several weeks to write and edit it. I wrote the first version about a week ago. This revision is quite different than my original. I started this poem with just one word– sullen. It just sounded right to me. And then came the words of the turn or volta– So I step toward sunlit morning. The rest of the poem took shape as I wrote it. The form actually helped me. I don’t think it would ever have gone in the direction it did without the constraints of the form.}

Curtain

When I sit at my kitchen table
on a cold morning, the white
of the window curtain
crisp-ironed, pleated,
pure and clean,
warms me. And I think
about the day ahead.
Whatsoever happens,
this morning’s light
on bright linen shines
in my mind like polished silver.
There is work to be done.
There is wonder to behold.

{I love ordinary things. They’re my favorite to write about. I’m so glad dVerse offered this prompt.}

At the 7-Eleven

Long line. He will get there before me.
Swing past the aisle. Don’t hesitate.
Make good time and beat him–quick!
Silver cylinder slung,
air in a can hung…
tube in his nose?
Eye meets eye.
–back up–
slow.

{This is for the prompt at Real Toads–Fussy Little Forms:Nonet. The nonet is 9 lines in a pattern of descending syllables. 9,8,7…1. These little forms are so much fun. This one is based on a personal experience about a month ago.}