Thirteen Line Sonnet
The art of perfection is not a common thing.
We sometimes see it in the sunrise and sunset
and what the transitional seasons bring.
Rarely do we find it in human happenings
though once I heard Van Cliburn’s rendering
of Moonlight Sonata and watched the Swan Lake
leaps of Nureyev, the closest to perfection
I’d ever heard or seen. Then there’s the mournful
songs of Adele, Leonard Cohen’s sardonic anthems,
the pell-mell lyrics of Dylan, the lines of Frost
and Dickinson, the colors of Monet. But then
for most of us who live with perpetual mediocrity
the art of perfection is not a common thing.