← v21n1, Spring 2022Poetry · Volume 21, Number 1
Sonnet (1)
He wanted us to think and
Said so. He wanted to have been
Something else, and was. He could carry
A child under each arm, and their skis,
Sheltered in a thicket. Here was a man
Who sat unmoving in a clearing and heard
Snowflakes crackling in the cold
As they fell. That view, so high: I see him
The way his friend describes, legs
Folded beneath him. I feel him listening.
