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.