Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #39
A Jester Stood
by Belinda Roddie
A jester stood atop the pinnacle
of a skyscraper in Chicago haze,
picking up wind in sound cylindrical
bursts. When the moon came out, its pearly gaze
made the foppish belled man easy to see.
All the tourists stopped and stared, quite enthralled,
but the citizens walked by carelessly
and did not slow to view the spectacle.
Many asked how on earth he could balance
on the monstrous and shining monolith.
Would he lose footing and perhaps by chance
in mere minutes fall quickly to his death?
And who was the true fool? The jester high
above their heads, or people asking why?
by Belinda Roddie
A jester stood atop the pinnacle
of a skyscraper in Chicago haze,
picking up wind in sound cylindrical
bursts. When the moon came out, its pearly gaze
made the foppish belled man easy to see.
All the tourists stopped and stared, quite enthralled,
but the citizens walked by carelessly
and did not slow to view the spectacle.
Many asked how on earth he could balance
on the monstrous and shining monolith.
Would he lose footing and perhaps by chance
in mere minutes fall quickly to his death?
And who was the true fool? The jester high
above their heads, or people asking why?
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