Internal Landscapes IV

Internal Landscapes IV (Occitan Sonnet)

Camellias bloom with summer’s dying breath

Too late to prune azaleas, blooms be damned

Stuck on repeat a hundred winters’ breadth

Demise arise and glean this endless span

Fraught frostbite, leery of the chilliness

But touch my skin and taste icecap firsthand

Reprise of my bland days–un-kindled depth

Please break my bones and terrorize my land

But wait–a storm that brews and boils near

Like fly suddenly snared in spider’s web

Entrapped in arms of jubilee, appear

The cauldron of my chest soon stirred to wed

The contents, agitate, to the sincere

Of burning blood, a newfound pumping red!

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