I wrote this sonnet while flying from Seattle to Chicago on my way home to Virginia.

Dichotomy is silent words of truth
In silence I can hear the roar of thought
I miss the solitude I felt in youth
I hear the poetry that time has brought
Together, words like precious pain inspire
If inspiration comes from words at all
I love the cool intent of rhythmic fire
I watch it rise and hope its heights will fall
When lies belie intentions, hope recedes
Like tides that ebb from beaches of deceit
The water that brings life, brings life to weeds
Sweet flowers drown and feel their roots retreat
There has to be a middle road or song
Where all my silent words and thoughts belong.

Yay! My first high altitude sonnet!

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