July 2, 2018Night Drive Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six Through Tunnels of OakJonathan Johnson

“I write poems to more fully occupy my existence. The neighborhood in this slim sonnet is the East Side of Marquette, in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Recently—and since I wrote the poem—my wife and I finally bought an old home there. Sometimes, writing late at night behind a high bedroom window, I look out and almost glimpse us driving by twenty years ago, imagining which house might someday be ours. But we’re never there.”