I Conclude a Sonnet Never Changed

I conclude a sonnet never changed
a mind, or moved a heart, or opened a locked
door. If such could be so readily arranged,
poems could not possibly stay stocked.
Pockets would be filled and pillows swarmed.
Oh no, a sonnet never swung a gate,
cracked a safe, or left a bomb disarmed.
It never swam a moat, or pried a crate.
Or rather, whom it moved, at any rate,
was accidental; a side effect, some poor
someone tugged at when its influence, its weight,
its pool of midnight revealed a midnight shore.
Yes, then, it may have changed a life, or more;
but not the one it was intended for.

Kate Light

Crosswalk, Stefan Höchst