Poetry: Toledo

Another one that was sort of a challenge by Sangirardi.  Again, he challenged me to write sonnets because I told him I wasn't very much into any traditional form of poetry and that quite honestly, I never truly explored that avenue of poetry.  So, 'Toledo', along with 'Tangle' were two sonnet 'experiments'.  Toledo having been originally written in Spain, in Toledo infact in 2003, was reworked for this format but in truth, the original wasn't too far off  the sonnet style already, it was an easy leap to make.

--adjusted from the actual sonnet on 3/14/2012--original saved in files
    

Toledo

The sound was that of black

and wings, stuck to stone spires.

Toledo,

frozen in ascension,

saturated in sunshine.

The crows

they laze about

on fountain ledges

and telephone wires

while the headless

mass of mossing santos

pray for the divine.

We up and spiral,

en calles ocultados,

todo ocultado.

Toledo, the study of a stillness y el cielo.

En la plaza, the scent

fue la historia y café.

In the calm

and in the heat,

the statues grow

tired and weak.

The crows,

they jump, they break

for the sky and shatter the day,

staining the blue with feathered

specks and clacking beaks.

They squeal and yammer, they rise up like martyrs roaring.

From her heights, Santa Leocadia is still soaring.

By the Tagus, Toledo holds its sword upright, 
                                                                                         
as the afternoon sweats the crowds into the night.