Sonnet for Sleeping Obsession
by Kendall Kyle Cyree
"Woe is me," whispered Yesterday as she turned
her shoulder away from the Sun.
"I am here," he said to her. "I will not spurn
you like the Rainbow. I will make love to you, soon,
but for now I must cast the tides into a room
of talking fish, buried treasure, and holy balks
so high that it cannot be grasped or even exhumed
by people such as you or I." He thought, "I must stalk
each one, to tell them the time to talk
and the time to sleep. And you must sleep
as you wait on the snowy ground marked
blood here, weeping there, tomorrow by people so needy
that they will be hidden from me in my reveries,
as I hide from you while I sleep after my revelry."