Jack RichardSonnets

Late

The Autumn leaves can make a lovely noise
When, lecturebound, I tread on concrete stones
And goose-much, tho’ with certain joy and poise
I swaddle, taken in by Nature’s tones.
For verily, the Earth is one with all:
Her rhythms all we too are made a part,
In Winter-time we laugh at raven’s drawl
While Summer’s heat ne’er fails to warm the heart…
(A watchward glance) “Good God, what time has passed!
My sentiment has left me late to learn
The others sit in rows with eyes downcast,
Do with their glaring looks my lateness spurn.
Thus bear in mind, all those who like to wander:
A lonesome front-row seat is yours to ponder.

The Next Day

Morning dawns: a bright November day
For Monday has arrived, and with it fall
The leaves, yes, but too those gone away
The poppies and the pins that held them all.
We go about our business, study, sleep
As fading reds sink lower in the bins
Not seen outside like leaves or pressed to keep
But cast aside, as second-death begins.
They shall not grow old, as we who are left all know,
Let symbols only not define our grief:
All nations bleed for motives high and low
Our actions hence, informed, may bring relief.
Do what you can, and always keep thoughts near
The dead do not all fall but once a year.

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