a certain indefinite number of Petrarchan “sonnets” (39)

Ordinarily I don’t publish so much poetry at Theoria-press, and instead try to provide mostly essays with an odd poem or sonnet occasionally interspersed among them. But the Muse’s visits have outstripped my ability to keep pace with prose pieces so readers who prefer essays should peruse the archives of this site, which are replete with them. Also, I should acknowledge that the formal aspect of this “Petrarchan sonnet” is liberally conceived so it’s unnecessary to alert me that at “Petrarchan sonnet” with 15 lines is like a quartet with 5 members, though criticism and rebuke is always welcome from anyone who feels so moved.

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SEE waves of day that lap on distant hills
the village anchored like a ship at sea
a sun-cast shadow on her morning lea
a flood of light embrace the vessel still
and bear her up on rising tides until
the crew is roused and clamours hurriedly
to man their divers stations busily
to strive among the coming straights with skill
but to what shore do we now make our way?
while flocks of geese like fishes to and fro
swim like schools in the sea of day
schools whose own instinctive paths they know
through a wisdom for which men can only pray
our tow’ring tight-bound prow, where will it go?
what waves will lap us in the evening glow?

Photo by Silja Müller on Unsplash