Poetry Magazine
Sonnet
No children;
Cold uncoils in the blood;
Science, true, not good
For you. So old,
Suddenly, or so young.
Lyric inside not to be sung.
Plug pulled, screen gone.
Sun out; mind
Bountiful, playing pain.
These are my children
In my head. Unbegotten.
This is to self-forget,
To have the future
Born forgotten.
Source: Poetry (February 2011).
Poem Categorization
SUBJECT Living, Growing Old, Disappointment & Failure, Relationships, Family & Ancestors, Arts & Sciences, Poetry & Poets
Poetic Terms Sonnet
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