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
New Foundations—New Abolitionist Literature
Ron