(on the collection of sonnets by Sir Philip Sidney)
Astrophil, lover of stars
Stella will never hurt you, never betray you
Foolish, irrational, passionate man
You plunder knowingly down each fallen path
Early light and the same recognition
Of each blended morning
A prism of years
Crystalline revelry casts light
On dusty books, unopened boxes
Things that needed attending to long ago
But now the reason escapes the necessity.
Didn't you know
When you chased her light
Endless sonnets of bitter regret
That she was with you all along?
Nobody remembers his name
Only yours
And hers
You won her in the end
She loves you best of all
Poor, sad, broken poet
Lost, aimless, darkened spirit
Stella always thought you a god.
You had only to look up
That is where the stars are
Yet you spent so much time down there
In the darkened hole
Seeking distraction, following trails with ends in sight
At the very beginning
At the very beginning
Perhaps your misery was a choice
So many words, so many miscommunications
So much poetry
And never a simple
"Run away with me, this world is mad."
I would follow in a heartbeat.
But that's not how the story went, is it
No - this is just a revision -
On sonnets that were written long ago
Nobody cares
It's too late
That's how our story will go, too
Yet daily you stumble into the dark
And I continue to light your path
It's Stella, don't you know
Who felt it worst of all
You prolific, immortal fool.
-A.L.
-A.L.
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