Virgo
Too late, too late, the summertime has gone.
Alone, I wander in the bleakening
That creeps across the fields before the dawn
And beg my heart to not feel anything.
The leaves come down in rusting drifts of gold,
Set free by winds flown south on silver wings.
Alone, I wait for winter to unfold,
Regretful in the chill September brings.
What right have I to mourn the summer’s end,
When willfully I squandered his estate,
Assuming more than my own dividend,
Misprizing him until it was too late?
The bowl is broken and the cord undone,
And I must learn to live without the sun.
Patricia Rogers Crozier has been published in The Washington Post. She holds a B.S. in Physics from Mississippi College. She resides in Gulf Breeze, Florida and works at Publix. She is the winner of the 2024 SCP International Poetry Competition.
I assume this is a sonnet on the constellation Virgo in the zodiac, since Virgo is a springtime-early summer sign. I can picture this as one of a sequence of twelve sonnets, each one dealing with a zodiac sign.
On the other hand, I can imagine a different reading, where the title “Virgo” (virgin) could refer to a young woman as the speaker, lamenting the loss of a male admirer (“Misprizing him until it was too late”). The summer sun may be thought of as the male admirer, now out of reach. Or it may very well be the case that the poet has deliberately conflated these two possible readings.
I love the word “bleakening.” We now have a new /-en/ verb (bleaken) that can rhyme with “weaken” and “beacon” and “deacon.”
Beautiful, Patricia. I had no doubt I would like
it. And I like the two interpretations offered
by Dr. Salemi.
I thoroughly enjoyed this many-layered, beautiful sonnet. Your imagery is exquisite, “rusting drifts of gold.”
I love the idea of a series based on the zodiac, I hope you’ll explore that.