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| Sonnet Never Written Mistaken we to hope and hold and dream who never see the window open wide on worlds fragmented tarmac silent scream and think that there is nothing more beside. Who holds me holds the future past and now who holds me holds the promise that I keep and cherish inward piercing as a vow who holds me will not touch me as I sleep. And when the day has come, I dream of night that never will be future from the past. I cannot know the vision in your sight or peer to see the throw that you have cast. The songs I can't sing tearing at my throat My favorite verse: the one you never wrote. |