Winter Madness, a cinquain sonnet
Under the streetlights, the blocks go on forever beneath the leaden sky. In this city, streets seem somehow longer, straighter in the winter night, lonelier than the steam from sewers. Madness belongs to the night, to the filling of empty lanes with the walls of words. ...I've done a few haiku sonnets, so I figured...why not... ...puttin' the Po in NaPoWriMo...
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Applause. I loved – the
blocks go on forever
beneath the leaden sky
you gave me the image
with your words once
again.
My gift to you…and my thanks!
🙂 x
Lovely, mournful. Love it!
Thanks Jo–
Madness
belongs to the
night, to the filling of
empty lanes with the walls of words.
This is right on target. Good one. Alice
Thank you Alice–