SOBRIETY SONNET                          with apologies to my brother, 11 months clean The boy who cried sunlight, summer rain, bird-in-the-bush, in the hand, who cried fiddleheads, brook trout, berries in the field by the chicken house, again and again who cried lilacs, from each bloom a hit of nectar…

  Young walruses, we all must adapt! For example, some of your ancestors gouged the world with four tusks, but you can grow only two. It’s hard to say what evolution plans for your kind, but if given a choice,you should put in a request for thumbs. Anyway, congratulations! You’re entering a world that’s increasingly hostile and cruel and full of people…