We all have 3 seconds,
To make the entire sonnet count.
To summon spectators,
Who begin with seeds of doubt.
What can be amplified?
What can join the fray?
A gander at the Gambler,
Incited to play.
The fulfillment to a lifetime of longing,
Is to stand at that Triade source and see,
Oh, that is why,
I was delayed in that storm,
And why the dream took,
Why the basil dried,
And the movie sold out.
Why I spoke so poorly,
And my child’s lips formed a perfect pout.
It is why my button came undone,
And the reason incense,
Reminds me of something long gone.
Why the stain did not wash clean,
And the glass left a splinter, unseen.
The reason it was not a good sail day,
Why the feathers turned to clay,
And I lost self, along the way.
You were looking out for me,
In ways invisible to a passing glance,
So I would be amazed see, that collectively,
Guidance was provided in that 3 second chance.
by Lisa Ann DeNunzio-Gomes