The lottery gives better odds
Than sonnets penned to win the hearts
Of beautiful librarians,
Who place them on the shelf unread,
So this one I'll fold up & fly,
Like some unruly boy in school,
Where you might find it underfoot
And wonder at the sort of man
Who knows no better way than this
To get back in your hands again--
Unlikely paper avatar,
Slow gliding like the yellow sun
To places it has not been seen
Since you were last alone with me.