Thursday, August 26, 2021

The Black Flag (Rene Magritte), Sonnet #577

 










Multiple shelves of sky

Hold old bric a brac,

Thunderclouds I can’t track

Or meteors descry.

Nothing seems to keep up,

Yet fills me like a cup.

I dance from shelf to shelf

Unburdening my self,

Turning war-bent airships

To innocuous pips

Soon to wing, flag, and drop,

To fill the raptor’s crop.

My dance is never done,

Shelf to shelf to the sun.

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