Like Sonnets Dripping From the Sky

Sometimes upon the bluesy blur

Of day bending with twilight’s sigh

It seems I hear a sort of whisper

Dripping from the deep'ning sky

Window-scapes fade to nothingness

And so time’s new day disappears

Into Bygone's big emptiness

Of Now spun into after-years

And I am torn; love-worn, the art

Of hunger and fulfillment vie

To touch the part that stirs the heart

With sonnets slipping from the sky

© Janet Martin