Sonnet ("Monsters in their...")

MILES WHITE

Pale-flavored and sap-tinted.

This day

I distrust all quiet places save that they instruct for action.

The conductor cocked his eye and speared the minute

Out of a watch great as a gold tureen.

On time

The sky broke and went out;

The continent tilted and we fell

In rising conversation toward Chicago

Past blue farms pinned by yellow to the land.

Miles White

SONNET

Monsters in their grottos are protected

From children and policemen, but the delights

Of safety are overrated. Summer nights

Bring back the human errors once corrected

By being a monster; drive them forth, expected,

To streets which empty at their approach. The lights

Expose perhaps one child untutored in fright

Who stays and smiles as if nothing were suspected.

It is agreed that parents should be able

To give a simple name to everything,

And smile when children ask too many reasons:

Psychology instructs us. But in the fable

A young girls kiss brought sudden, lancing spring

To a frightened mind that had put away its seasons,