Spontaneous Sonnet Spring 2015
D
Daniel Brick
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The poem written in haste
spreads evenly across the page.
How could this happen in a world
of trampled syntax, labored meanings,
abandoned eloquence? Because,
no longer afraid of a misstep, I
assembled two dozen words selected
for their immediate wonder, and
watched as they dropped into grooves
of the stiff paper, looking thoroughly
at home with each other, never to be
dispersed again into separate lives.
Theirs is a collective fate, with each
reader swelling the darkness with light.
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