Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Niagara Sonnet One


Remember me, though friendless now I be,
when through the parting sash I waved so cold,
and when the downpour drenched me growing old,
it was your friendship I desired to see.
Your chestnut hair was like the autumn's end,
then parted as a river from its source,
your red lips spoke in snows like holly boughs
poisonous green, yet comely to defend.
My eyes have now been opened, I was fair
to every friend I valued in the mirror,
my foes live in a realistic fear
I'd intuit my neighbors and their cares.
If only I'd extend my hands in grace,
I'd look upon a multicultural face.

Emily Isaacson