
Sonnet for the Dreamers Craving Sleep
Thrown knucklebones outside the opera house,
Make bets on lines that horses never run.
All sober gap-toothed grins that don’t espouse,
But simmer underneath the midnight sun.
We follow fault-lines in the gritty road,
To fertile fields of asphalt-growing flowers.
Small words of wonder said in mummer’s code,
Release our quiet song to moonlit hour.
See unsolved fragments sifting into place,
While others shirk and turn away too soon?
Long shadowed bones show beauty’s angled face,
Reflected in the silver backs of spoons:
A transformation known but never seen,
Vestigial fingers itching into wings.

