New Sky....Ottava Rima Sonnet
Unseen is the shimmering fog bank of the bay
But above that morning mist there is still sky
Through that see late stars shimmer and sway
Like diamonds across rich breasts catch the eye
Once seen, unable to drag the eyes ever away
Honking horns and flashing bring back reality.
A north wind stirs up, burns away the cotton
All to soon, reality takes over, fantasies forgotten.
Someone left a clipped fingernail hanging
On a velvet sky, pretending to be a moon.
Wrinkled trees stand there branches moaning
Feet buried in dirt hoping spring will come soon.
Old cotton dressed like fog slows down driving
Except for the red, hot car driven by the hoon.
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