Select one of the keywords
That Nightmare
By Wesley Williamson

(A sonnet written soon after I came to Canada from Ireland)

That nightmare is most harrowing
Whose symbols, first familiar,
Writhe from the clasp into a witch-change,
And asps gape up
Out of the soft hair;
No disappointment keen
As parted in a crowd to clutch
Eager at a lost friend, to find
A face so far unknowing to become
Still more a stranger.

I am a stranger in this familiar land,
Lulled by our single tongue
With its same seeming,
Till some subtle turn
Starts me up breathless from my dream of home.

Note: Opinions expressed in reviews and articles on this site are those of the author(s) and not necessarily those of BookLoons.