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Apr 2017
See my spiral for how she rendered it*  



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXXXVI)


Ya.  Lean upon the porch rail as night's dense
Black--does it twinkle with ah, stars? nor hail
The mirk none pass through, just my brother.  Pale
As Au Revoir where all else sleep from hence,
Lo, how--what ist?  Hark!  For the train calls thence,
Its whistle breaking this cold silence' tale,
And think now, of how I'll lose all ist? frail
Against the metal lacework, sans defense.
Turn back indoors to clean the mess we'd stir
In babysitting.  Wooden tracks a crew
Of Brio traincars clattered oer in tour
Half like what deeply rumbles past, aye to
A fault, my brother saying "a real train--" Were
I numb too long oer Mum?  Or swear I knew?

01Apr17b
As it was, she's almost 4 so I thought that question of her dad too odd, but whatever, mebbe Tia understands after all.
Jenny Gordon
Written by
Jenny Gordon  49/F/Bolingbrook, IL
(49/F/Bolingbrook, IL)   
1.3k
       kim, Timothy, The Sick Red Carnation, Gidgette and L B
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