Where does your sonnet grow?

It’s a difficult habit, hard to maintain -

to peg the reading, writing, with place and date

much easier to buy a book and scrawl my name

and leave the rest blank, no city or state.

For a few days I have put the writing off -

“get to it another time, when less fragile” -

may be scribbled a direct draft in the blog.

But in the end I must make a fresh new file

and nothing of the cities now left behind

lodged in the making of these new documents

and nothing once I finish writing these lines

to signal homesickness and reminiscence.

Life’s perhaps a sonnet but the universe

cares little where it’s written, wants just the words.

                                                                                                                                                              

Manama.

07.09.2014.