← v21n1, Spring 2022
Poetry · 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.