A Pink Sonnet
Written for a Creative Writing class. A sonnet homage to Pink Floyd—one reference per line.
So at the gates of dawn the pipers play
Of suns and saucers and secrets galore.
Music quite fine—the audience wants more,
And unlike Sysyphus, they get their way.
The atom heart of a mother they sway,
Playing music that echoes like a roar.
Spirits obscured by clouds, with the sound, soar;
Moon hides a half, no match for that display
The pipers play of wishing for lost brothers,
And of dogs and sheep and pigs on the wing,
And of tearing down a wall—with all their heart.
The final cut is a mistake—or, others
Say, a lapse of reason. They cease to sing
And the division bell rings them apart.
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