Nigh

A Poem by Giorgio Veneto

A Shakespearean Iambic pentameter Sonnet.

There is a tallest among trees that stands,
Where the wild winter thunder storms remind
That memories can last alone on lands
Where favored once a peaceful rain and kind.

So painful turn the memories of Fall,
September's avid were the mistle drops,
And through the ether came to me your call,
Like lonely doves we fled above roof tops.

Your eyes were then two solitudes and I,
Begotten of a solemn cause and dream,
Unspoken stood guard of your grace and nigh,
Aligned rain-birds on wires they stood, odd scheme.

And when the birds' gray images arised,
The rain drops fell and my odd loss baptized