Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Susan Sonde: A Dagger of Sunlight Lies across His Bed

The room is quiet but for the rustle of the blanket
under which he’d slept burrowed deep in the nest sense,
that wholesome dark down there, where he lay on a field
of old summers, on a gone-to-seed garden. His thoughts

fettered, chained and in the hold, he won’t let himself
think and sits hiked up now, naked to the waist, like a
stone in the bedclothes, his mind festooned on the angle
of incidence his life is taking, the robust weariness he feels.


Copyright 2018 Susan Sonde


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This entry was posted on August 8, 2018 by in Poetry and tagged , , .

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