SONNET

Dana Ward

Goodness is alkaline far in the chest
the war you blew out of my hands laid its head in my lap
I asked for its other name too
it swam in the pooled crystal wafers
I found in the ink
a set of trees hardened by age
given the leaves that are ensigns of May Day
the trebled green wicked & sweet.
All through the merry, cross weeks
of our spent life together, intemperate eyes
looked away from the mercy of tyrants to light
on the pirated wish of our work.
Whatever we make of our late solidarity
nothing will come of its verse.