NaPoWriMo / NaPoREADMo — Day 17 — Winter Madness, a cinquain sonnet

(A bit late...more on the cinquain sonnet here)




Winter Madness

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.












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...

Zenaida macroura



Grey morning creeps in

through open-eyed windows, steals

between the sheets—as


dark as the thought of

cold before it can be felt—

slips through shuttered eyes


sewn shut by colors

dreamed into them without will

or consistency,


and now, just there, just

above the window, grey-winged

mourners come.  Perhaps,


like me, they want the world to

wake up without them.






Trying out a new form that David at Derelict Satellite invented I believe, has definitely 
mastered and been kind enough to loan me....the haiku sonnet.  
Incredible and inspirational work on his blog.