Sonnet Sunday 29: The Guardian
Image Credit: Paul Williams
There’s something about stars in cold weather. Maybe it’s simply that Michigan is frequently covered by clouds in winter in particular, and that the days are so short, but when the stars are visible they seem brighter, clearer, and almost more necessary than in Summer.
I wrote this sonnet in November as part of the Poem a Day Prompt. It seemed like a good one to kick off 2018, especially since it’s been so bitterly cold recently.
Written November 1, 2017
Orion glitters fiercely overhead.
The darkness of the wide curtain of night
Just seems to deepen with the cold. His light,
Which penetrates the infinite black spread
Of space, stands guardian o’er winter lands
Of frozen, brittle glass and naked tree.
No frog is heard, nor squirrel, nor buzzing bee;
All nature’s acquiesced to cold’s demands.
And yet in frozen lands, he is alert,
His bow in hand, his massive club upraised,
Still looking east with anxious, furrowed gaze,
Impatient, though he seems to be inert;
Until the first rose tinglings of the dawn
Appear: and our great guardian fades—gone.