Today, I wore my hair up, awaiting
Those wandering serpent eyes that appall
A face once hidden, now, unveiled for all.
Yet there stood a tree, beautifully fading.
Never did the amber leaves, cascading
Down from their creator question their fall.
Unlike me, who felt compelled to enthrall.
Admired, they are, in seasons changing.
Blind and confined in my own vanity,
Nature shared with me how we intertwine:
Every branch and limb is pure and sublime-
A truth so profound with vitality.
Veiled with my hair down, I stood absently
Submerged in a fog of my own design.
____
A sonnet written for my college Romanticism class, featuring an accidental break from the traditional rhyme structure.
