Shakespeare's Sonnet #15

{Callie's Version}

When I consider everything that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheerèd and checked even by the selfsame sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory;
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night;
 And, all in war with Time for love of you,
 As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

-William Shakespeare

A little moment perfect it was not
but when I consider the sparks and snaps
from our first fire of the season, caught
we were between what ifs; trying to wrap
our heads around fire as a verb while
its noun kept us warm and talking; sipping
wine. If all that grows holds perfection, I'll
file this moment as absolute. For growing
we were. We are. We will. We have to. Look
how the flame grows and dances with the dark.
You and I must, too. Although we are shook
we have no choice but to grow, to embark
onto the dance floor with a maniac.
Listen for pulse. Make something from the lack.

-Callie R. Feyen