Sunday, January 28, 2007

oh no; a sonnet

photographer unknown

Where is the dreamer and where is the poet,
the shaded cottage, the girl in the boat?
Replaced by the schemer in real estate,
the big operator behind armored plate.
Are there roses in gardens by the six-laned road?
And where do the children play?
Through the bullet-proof glass of a long limousine,
I saw hope in a young bride today
and wished her luck, as the car left the curb,
bound, I am sure, for a greener suburb.
May her counters be granite with accents of gold,
may she circle the planet on cruises,
and if, it turns out, her groom's heart is cold,
may the best of fashion hide her bruises.

- Ralph Murre

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