April 19--: A Sonnet

I pass beside the brute, welling canal,
Rain and exploded ice move feverish,
Entrenching despair in the Ottawa
River. It's April, I'm carrying gold
Wafers and songs in my leather satchel;
I'm off to treasure C., desperately,
After five hard years. I'm hopeful, fearful,
and married. Married, but I've loved only
Her for terrible, self deceiving years....
This mournful, dismal canal, pent-up sea,
April-wild water charging, ferries this
Hard news: I'll lover her even down to death.
I home to the dusk'd café, where she'll be--
Snow and crocus now mingling with the rain.

George Elliot Clarke
formerly of Ottawa, ON
presently of Duke University, Durham, NC