New Sonnet by Edward Giles Brown – February 16, 2013

When one moment sun, the next one grey gauze
Does shake its tendrils to release fair snow,
A gust of ice blasts through our neck and saws,
To core of comfort's station, deadly blow.

The sun had baited us to out and walk,
Our errands good excuse for getting air,
Too far removed to turn back after shock
Has shivered us crisp, stuck halfway our err'.

Pressing forth, we capture no other plan,
And finding no solution in our tread
We pause a tick to wonder how began;
Now we have no start, for that we have fled.

  Crossing river back home becomes our task
  Whether it to finish, we dare not ask.

© 2013 Edward Giles Brown. All Rights Reserved.
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