Bruce Robinson
Sonnet d’antan
New in town, or is it the town
that’s new, the streets, it’s night,
what would you expect, dark and still,
and yet the glow of a dancer, dream
that’s strayed, look out, and there
it wanders, heads downtown. Or does it
know east from west without thinking,
lost without thought, lost in disputation,
fumbling for meaning in street signs
when pain is clear as day. The city streets
are dark and still, what you’ve come to expect,
a neon glow here shadows dance and dreams
begin to fill, minds of those who wander
lost in thought, or by the corner of a moon.
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Recent work by Bruce Robinson appears or is forthcoming in Tar River Poetry, Spoon River, Rattle, Mantis, Two Hawks Quarterly, Berkeley Poetry Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, North Dakota Quarterly, Last Stanza, and Aji. He divides his time uneasily among several four-footed and sure-footed creatures.
Author’s Backstory and/or Crafting: When I asked Bruce, he said “I have no clue about backstory/genesis/crafting elements at this point, if I ever did, which is highly unlikely. . . I do know that there’s a pun in d’antan, as ‘downtown’ and ‘yesteryear.’”
Editor’s Comments and/or Image Credits: The meaning of the title is a sonnet of yesteryear in French, yet this is very much an American sonnet, a contemporary work! The image is of wet neon streets at night [wallpaperflare.com] superimposed by a full moon [Pngtree.com]
