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Sonnet for Houston

The highway shuffles traffic as the sun
begins to bake the tarmac; its black emits
waves of heat that waver as it gets
a thousand fractions hotter. Heat is one
of many factors I find under sun:
the buildings rise to meet the sky, as fits
a city; urban sprawl spreads forth and gets
entangled with the freeways; cars still run
along the streets. How nice this chaos is!
The beauty of this metal and concrete
is in the choice to walk the streets and see
the Texan cityscape, the golden hue of this
impending dusk. The night cannot defeat
the rush of Houston’s life, an ecstasy.

.

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Skyscape with Cirrus Clouds

for Rachel Wetzsteon (1967-2009)

The clouds are blots of white on washed-out blue;
and wisps of cirrus high above, the strands
so thin they trace the air, then lessen to
a nothingness, dissolve, as night expands
to cease the scene. I watch as sky’s demands
for blue fall through. The icy, black of night
must win. Alone, at home, I know this sight:

it’s one of loss, of lesser light, a life
that’s drained of vigor. Stars may try to break
through ether’s carbon paper, but their strife
is futile—black must come again. But take
your pain, transform it. Find a way to make
the darkness work. It will return, so know
that art can always come from times of woe.

.

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The Visitation: In Memoriam

The rosewood glints in amber light,
a sheen that gleams like tears tonight.
Your coffin closed, we catch the sight

of crimson tendrils in the sky
that fight the night, that war and vie
with ashen wisps, and then they die…

A silence coats the barren hills
like mist; the night proceeds and fills
the land with a black sea that spills

into the cityscape where life
goes on with no fanfare, no strife.
The living thrust themselves on, rife

with their own fires, with their own lists
to check off, as the world persists
with one less person who exists.

The highway shuffles cars; a plane
takes flight; the lucid moon will wane;
the cycle will repeat again.

This life’s a stream that sweeps each to
their fate; and what remains, once through,
is merely a memory or two.

The funeral parlor’s lights fade
and, soon, as will the words we prayed.
A death: the debt to life is paid.

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Alexander Lazarus Wolff is a graduate student currently residing in Houston, Texas. His work has been published or is forthcoming in The Best American Poetry website, The Citron Review, Black Fox Literary Magazine, South Florida Poetry Journal, Main Street Rag, Serotonin, and elsewhere. You can find him and more of his work here: https://www.alexanderlazaruswolff.com/ and on Instagram: @wolffalex108

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9 Responses

  1. Mary Gardner

    Alexander, you employ enjambment and the Royal Stanza rhyme scheme masterfully. Your words paint a picture and capture me in their mood. All of these poems are surprisingly optimistic – Houston’s vibrancy even at night, the transformation of blackness into useful carbon paper, and death as payment of a debt.
    .

    Reply
  3. Paul A. Freeman

    Wow! Some amazing imagery here, Alexander.

    It takes great skill to use a usually meaningless word like ‘nice’ so impactfully, but you manage it in ‘Sonnet to Houston’ with aplomb.

    And with ‘Skyscape with Cirrus Clouds’, the first half of the poem, where clouds dissolve into night, I found quite masterful.

    Thanks for the read.

    Reply
  4. jd

    Enjoyed all three, Alexander. I can see you walking Houston’s streets, words churning.
    The third is my favorite but all three are worthy of attention.

    Reply
  5. Roy Eugene Peterson

    You have a great future ahead of you writing classical poetry. Your rhymes are wonderful, meters are good, and messages resonate.

    Reply
  6. Margaret Coats

    The move to Houston agrees with you and brightly sparks your sonnet, Alexander. The “Skyscape” is good, too, but I like “The Visitation” best. It is so good that I need to suggest a slight correction for perfection. To me, the first line of the last stanza reads more naturally as “The FUneral PARlor’s LIGHTS [will] FADE.” You have enough syllables without my added “will,” but the addition allows all the accents to fall on important syllables. Without the “will,” your accents fall thus: The FUneRAL parLOR’S lights FADE.” You already have a parallel construction “will” in the following line. Fine images and structure throughout the earlier seven stanzas.

    Reply
  7. Joseph S. Salemi

    The sustained enjambment flows perfectly, and shows that coherence in traditional English poetry need not be constricted by tedious end-stopping. The poem “Skyscape…” is especially fine.

    Reply
  8. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    A thoroughly enjoyable trio of fine poetry where you capture the breathtakingly glorious Texas skies magnificently. I particularly like ‘The Visitation: In Memoriam’ for the beautiful linguistic picture you paint and the splendor of the closing line. Thank you, Alexander.

    Reply

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