Prose
Poetry

Sonnet #2
Suppose a star fell seaward, like a tear
Of pale regret; suppose that star forgot
The cloudy byways of its home, knew not
What shadows dwelt in vaults it yet held dear,
And dimmed a halo joyful once and clear.
Suppose it hid, torn banners gleaming hot
No more, beside a broken chariot,
And shivered in the deeps where none came near.
Would sighs not linger in the airy night,
The music of one sphere of empty space,
And divers long to bring that pearl to light?
And should that star at last uplift its face,
Recall the will to rise renewed and bright,
And live—would it not meet the world’s embrace?

Written some time ago for a Muse now estranged.