this poem still resonates. I love that it is a sonnet, and how that definition can stretch and morph. Orr’s bio is worth reading, too:
Aftermath Sonnet
Letting my tongue sleep,
And my heart go numb.
Sensing that speech
Too soon,
After such a wound,
Would only be
A different bleeding.
Even needing to leave
The page blank.
Long season
Of silence—
Trusting that under
Its bandage of snow,
The field of me is healing.
Greggory Orr