Sunrise 11/26/23
Rondel Supreme
On the cable bridge, I stopped to look At the sun rising through a crook In the clouded ridge Like a smudge on a cluttered fridge Or a cocktail I only just shook On the cable bridge Where I stopped to look. For a moment I squidge My eyes to read from this book Of the sky, and a smidge Of time floats down the brook Beneath the cable bridge Where I've stopped to look.
I loved the rhythm of the poem and the picture of fuzziness the words paint. If this poem was an actual painting, it would be impressionist.
That cadence and the ‘smudge’ leaves me smiling at these playful lines - Stanley’s right - it paints itself.