Sonnet

How Art Thou?

What fate is this, that bars my words from flight?
They strike thy gate, yet find no welcome there;
Some keeper claims thy name hath lost its right,
Or dues unpaid have stilled thy dwelling's air?
Twice have I sent, and twice the missives fell,
Like stones cast out to sink in heedless sea;
Yet Pete reports thy voice to him did tell,
So mayhap thou hast turned thy face from me.
If so, I'll cease, and let the silence grow,
Though still I ask, how fare thy heart and mind?
For mine is well, though longing yet to know
What warmth or woe within thy days I'd find.
   Long months have passed since last our spirits met;
   Ciao, friend, 'tis Moi, may thy fair sun rise yet.


2026.04.28