Sonnet

For Sure

We’ve been writing about love all along,

its thousand-fold colors and endless names,

indelible mark and cloying songs––

how it runs wild, goes astray, or tames.

Hope climbs faster once it descends

if the elusive sought-after soul mate
is a detour away from the last dead end.
We yearn and return to another date.

Soon to take chances, we mend on the go.

The odds matter not; we’re bound to get past

––wired to wake up, though ragged and slow.

Our faith and our folly get back in the sack.

“Not again” is lament as before leads to after;
we'll look for love to grant the next chapter.

~ LCMH