24 / Hope Sonnet

Hope Sonnet

 

If I could write a poem today with hope

I’d fit in all the trees and birds and bears—

all animals, the skies and seas and air,

republicans, the middles, and the woke

 

would have their places too, and right beside

them all are you and I and puffer fish

and coral reefs, the nudibranch and nudist.

Ebbing, high, or slack: it takes all tides

 

to plump up where the moon is.  Here’s the thing:

We’re screwed. We’re doomed. We’re toast. We’ve effing ruined it.

Nobody’s coming. Revelations shit.

The planet’s better off without our sting.

The best that I can do in terms of hope

is that the human race will soon be smoke.

 

 

—–

[Prompt: Write a poem about hope]

 

4 thoughts on “24 / Hope Sonnet

  1. Amazing poem, Nancy! Fabulous sound sense and word play with the sonnet form. I especially love:

    Ebbing, high, or slack: it takes all tides
    to plump up where the moon is.

    AND “The planet’s better off without our sting.”

    Brava!

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