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Broken Sonnet (Sonnet) by Sasha
St. Petersburg The sidewalk's arm whose elbow lies akimbo along the curb spreads iron fingers out to hold the low-barred bridge the tall ships limbo under on the Nevá that wraps about the city, belt-like, part of it as though Petersburg'd been there ever since that river first etched her granite banks, or as if her flow had only grown with what the city'd give her. Where Pushkin walked apartments are dank with crumbling the beggars are mementos of the yellow and red flag raised on the palace. Ambling but broken denizens command a tear. There's a graveyard's burn where the old grandmothers mourn.

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xxx68.164.242.1510June 6, 2005 9:08 AM PDT
Anonymous205.222.240.210October 27, 2004 8:24 AM PDT
Anonymous205.188.116.14010September 25, 2004 1:56 PM PDT
Anonymous147.226.170.24910September 10, 2004 3:11 PM PDT
Blue Magpie212.205.251.76September 5, 2004 9:26 AM PDT
wilco66.162.22.1238July 28, 2004 10:18 AM PDT
zodiac212.118.2.839July 26, 2004 7:54 AM PDT
SupremeDreamer204.31.166.2168July 25, 2004 11:37 AM PDT
edpeterson68.79.8.2409July 25, 2004 7:12 AM PDT
INTRANSIT205.188.116.708July 24, 2004 7:11 PM PDT



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