Super Sonnet Saturday!

O, you, my hummingbird in a laser beam
beneath my cloak, hung beside the stream
like a ghost ship suspended, above my bed
with yarn lights and spider bites, you hath said

“boy, paint sharp lines of star diagrams.
ride dust waves into town, and tie three lambs
to the back leg of your rust colored horse,
and tow those little bundles to me, of course,

for I have caught fish, strung up on the porch
and stood in the glow of a young man’s torch.
riding through on a mule, from university,
in the languid night hours, I betrayed thee

and will not preen this fan of feathers
or untie my hair for you from its tethers”