Mired Divine, A sonnet
Going back into the oldish files for some poems that were lost in the pile. Here at least they'll breathe once more. This poem came from a time when I'd nearly given up on poetry for the first time in 20+ years. With my daughter at 3 years old, and my career as a copywriter picking up speed, I was losing track of why I pursued the ephemeral art at all. But thanks to meeting Poetic Asides , I found a respark and have continued with the practice unabated ever since. 30 years now! This poem is about us humans. "Mired Divine" Such mucky bubbles we all are with monkey grace and dirt and arm, tied into our tangled blankets needful as massage — and thankless — under the airships of our dreams bursting through Moissanite ceilings, dropping our soiled gabardine we spoiled in rain and gasoline … We’re puddles rainbowed with feeling waking as angels, but screaming, inventing stores of penny pranks, rumbling ohms and ums and flatu...