Saturday, March 10, 2012

Lenten Sonnet #18


All those years ago we stood in our good clothes
Before everyone we knew, and also God,
Who knowing us saw how the vows we made
Would endure us, growing cracked and warped with use,
But still serviceable. Every day we choose
Not to unsay them, as we don't leave our bed
A surf of twisted sheets, striped mattress naked
To the morning’s merciless white gaze --

I'm tucking in the corners while you pin
Your black socks together for the wash.
They won’t be separated. It’s a small
Thing;  still, this morning I’m so grateful
That you've pinned your socks together for the wash,
I’d dress up now and marry you again.


Sarah J. said...

I've been enjoying the sonnets and admiring your grit in keeping up this discipline! Without exaggeration I can say that it's inspiring. The idea of making art as a lenten discipline is one I've never heard anywhere else, and your connecting it to learning to pray better is just so interesting. And through reading these poems, that connection has become clearer to me. Keep up the good work! I've taken on a considerably lesser lenten practice on my blog-- not writing a poem a day, but writing roughly one poem commentary a week.

Jan said...

Anniversary? If so, cheers!

Don't know how you manage to crank out a sonnet every day.

Sally Thomas said...

Thanks, Sarah. And I'd say a commentary a week is doing well. What I really need to do at the moment is write up my thoughts on Lenten sonnet-writing, because I'm giving a talk this week on that very topic . . . hm. Better get busy.

And Jan, yep, it is today. Thanks for the good wishes.

Unknown said...

Happy Anniversary!

What I wonder is if you are constantly walking around writing a sonnets in your head about everything that happens. I find myself doing this with blog comments or things I'm going to write to people in email. I'm always dictating my life to myself.


Sally Thomas said...


Actually, I did the narrate-my-world thing a lot more the last time I wrote sonnets for Lent. This time what I think is, "How can I mix up the rhyme scheme/meter/form now?" Or else I just surrender to Petrarch or Shakespeare. At any rate, I'm thinking a lot more about what the rules are going to be for each one, and not so much what it's actually about, beyond what the first line says. The form dictates what comes next.

Sally Thomas said...

I was up writing this one really late, after I got in from my Dante group, and finally, at 2 a.m., after wanting to say something really profound and large piquant about marriage and not being able to do it, I just threw up my hands and went for the mundane details, because details are *there.* They make their own meaning, or at least you hope you can halfway trust them to. And with the details you get a pin, with which you can rhyme "again," and there you have it. Done.

Sally Thomas said...

"profound and large AND piquant," I meant to say. In case anyone was wondering what a piquant grande would look like.