SONNET 131
"The real things are apt to be deviant."
~ Osamu Dazai, The Setting Sun
Effort's a paltry trade to time unfair disposed,
Lead by expendable growth from grass unkempt and moss --
Styled not French but English suits a motley garden
Here where Evelyn's wonder hushed untranquil fends
Th' unwell, a rake somewhere, unwelcomed vines, for love's
Not a given. Here origami tigers stomped
Conditioned temp'rament a family's exhort --
Look at their garden, how trimmed or'f potted, corked.
T' criticize is affection, direct th' roses bloom;
Night's pillars strengthen, where'n latter-day hearts succumb
T' sunlight discussèd grasp strains like finding mushrooms
O'er delightful obstructions, mane of mango plums.
Your promises are by your breath self-extinguished.
Gard'ning acts for each clan's dire care diminished.
