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What a lovely, intricate sonnet! The form still has the power to surprise you when you come across it so rarely – capturing thought and perception and always with that emphatic parting shot.
For myself I find these roadside shrines – the knots of flowers and the white painted bicycles – unbearably poignant. Like Eliot’s ‘dust in the air suspended’ they ‘mark the place where a story ended.’
Only just read this now – another brilliant poem. Actually 3rd October is national poetry day….and my birthday. Ha. Cheers Paul – from a happy Poem Hound.
A x