Sonnet to a Pillow

Here is another of my sonnets about common household things. I’m sure the Odes of Pablo Neruda have influenced the creation of these, though I didn’t think about it consciously that way at first.

I give you… the pillow!

You are a thing that’s soft to squish against
My head or neck or back--that’s what you are;
Your fluffiness is here to keep me fenced
From sprawling flat upon the mattress, bar
The brutal stiffness of a night ill-spent
With crick and ache in shoulders or in head.
You’re made to be a kind thing: as I went
From dream to waking, still you watched the bed
To rest me there in comfort. Thankful, I,
For your warm welcome night by weary night,
And for your pleasant prop to watch the sky
At morn. A flowered case, pink blooms with bright,
Small yellow buds, goes over all your soft
And blue-ticked self, that keeps my head aloft.

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And here is a glimpse from Sunday morning…

Autumn morning walk
in silent sun. Cricket chirps~
grass begins singing.