Wednesday, July 25, 2007
l.a. winter blues (sonnet)
dear dad, i'm in los angeles. it's not
as warm as you would think. the sky is one
big cloud all day, and nights, i haven't got
a chance against the damp. without the sun
to heat things up, my bones get stiff. you'll laugh
at me, i know, and say i'm being too
dramatic (what with me not even half
your age) but still, i feel the years accu-
mulating. tell me, dad. i wonder if
it gets a little easier with time?
by now i know the clouds are bound to lift,
but is there more than just the endless climb?
i wouldn't think to ask, i'm sure, if only
the sky were not so grey and me so lonely.