Bucklebone Bob’s Dead Wife

Posted bytheatalaPosted inUncategorized
  • A sonnet is a fourteen line poem usually written in iambic pentameter and following a particular rhyme scheme. This sonnet follows the rhyme scheme of an English sonnet.
Monday morning sun beats down like a bat
It greets the cool air rolling off Rock Run
It was here my sunflower faced wife sat
We spat tobacco, just about a ton 

Walls are peeling and your pots are rusty 
My stomach is almost a ghost of you
Buttermilk biscuits, the mixers dusty 
You sang songs like the Rocky River Blues 

Our American Quarter Horse you rode
Smelling primroses and honeysuckle 
I sleep with all the crochet you had sewed 
Wheelbarrels are just about to buckle

When I close my eyes it’s vast countryside
I can’t do it alone even if I tried

Jayden Pichardo is creative writing student at PPCHS who is finishing up her sophomore year. She has loved creative media like art, writing, movies, and music since she was little. She was inspired to write this sonnet while listening to John Fahey’s “Sunflower River Blues.”

Published by theatala

the atala is designed, curated, & edited by the Pines Charter Chapter of the National English Honor Society. It showcases original student poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, literary criticism, and art. Like its namesake — the small, bright butterfly that grew from near extinction to rising numbers in our part of the world — this little literary journal aims to grow our love of writing and expand our community’s appreciation for the literary arts.

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