Medical Sonnet #7

In winter’s hoar, thy absence leaves me chilled
with fitful feelings tugging at my breast.
Uneasy, restless, desperate to be filled,
A breathless, longing woe: I must redress.
Spring wakes me from below, and insects stir.
A thousand spiders hang upon their thread,
While I dangle from the open sky, in turn,
by a solitary sigh of whispered dread.
Now the grasses blow in summer’s seething,
A gasping roused and kindled by the night.
Yes, summer is a time of heavy breathing,
Yet something also keeps it very light.
Autumn does a strip-tease, leaves are falling.
Desperation suits me not, I’m on my knees.
I beg for inspiration; now I’m crawling,
While waiting to exhale without a wheeze.

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art by Miles Aldridge