Monday, November 26, 2012
Sonnet Fifteen for Will
When aspiration waits upon the time/ Compacted between duty and despair/ It must not be distracted from the climb/ By doubt or disappointment. If I share / These precious moments set aside to write/ With other hapless enterprise, it’s done: / I might as well return to bed this night/ And wait upon the distant winter sun. / I do not have a moment to lament/ The seconds stolen by my bloat caprice -/ This is the only way I can repent / Delinquent days and make my inner peace. / I can’t amend the “no” of yesterday,/ But I can see what comes to me today.