Two Sonnets

Connor Stratton

When Grandma Rita died,

we spread her ashes

over the deck and faced

the lake. I played

“What a Wonderful World”

on the saxophone,

and my fingers pressed her ashes 

on the cool, metal keys.

Eyes closed, I am told

how sun brushes face

and understands The song

is simple and go down

the scale. Pink to gray

to gold. I waited awhile o wash my hands.

*Winter Sonnet

That winter, because

Grandma Betty was mostly

deaf. I played the song

one foot from her face—the bell

of the saxophone in bloom

at her ear.  Beautiful,

she said, and can you play

it again tomorrow.

Because I did not play,

because her body failed

the day after, I watched

her dying from the stairs—-

her head lay limp to its left,

ear grasping for depth.

MPWW

Minnesota Prison Writing Workshop

www.mnprisonwriting.org