AN UNDONE SONNET
To err on the side of magnificence,
a moral curiosity that knows no bounds –
no time, no death – steady as a wreck.
A poem of the rain makes no fools of
ourselves as rill, rivulet, burn and beck
run us down to our blasted medicine
How you activate the elements
depends on your position in the cycle –
no death, no time, no river touched
by rain that still falls sheer drop by drop on
the rooves, roads, cars and plants, rears up
over nautical dawn. I must have your
plenitude, all that I’ve learned from you –
no time, no death in our contested civic twilight.
With much love
[Scott Thurston’s selected poems Turning will be published by Shearsman this year. He is co-editor of the Journal of British and Irish Innovative Poetry and Professor of Poetry and Innovative Creative Practice at the University of Salford.]
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