Sonnets from the New World

BEAUTY Sometimes unexpectedly, unbidden, Beauty comes. Not a downpouring of doves, Not a Venus, sheathed in an ivory shell, Not even the lenses of Stonehenge in its season— Stones aligned to catch the sun as it moves Mystically, majestically, through holes And crevices. Not even these spectaculars— The light against the dark, the white ecstatic, Stars falling and setting the sky on fir...