I’m once more back and back again to yield
These little bits of simples from my brain,
The flags wave high across the Buckswood field
It seems so strange to be here once again.
My mother’s moved, the whole world has moved on,
Like traffic passing by that will not stop.
I’m here to meet a man whose name is Jon,
How quickly all our dreams fall when they drop.
How many verses are there in these things?
It’s been four years since I last started this
When we lay down where Roquebrun river sings
Oh, how I long for that past that I miss.
But here we are, and now we are, will stay
As I wake up, once more, Sonnet-a-day.

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