Honourable mention in the 1st Jackpine Sonnet Contest.
It’s a skill to know the shape the wild world has in mind for you. With hardly time to root your body is battered by quick-tempered storms. You’re stunned to find yourself alone. Your parents distant, fiery mobiles, mythic, predictive as constellations, your peers across the shore wave frantic warnings through the coughing rains. You dream of mastering a certain direction, break limbs, make compromises, bow before necessity, and just when you feel your heart defeated, grow into a grateful life.