John Allyn McAlpin Berryman

Sonet 17. The Old Boys' blazers like a Mardi-Gras

The Old Boys' blazers like a Mardi-Gras
Burn orange, border black their dominoes
Stagger the green day down the tulip rows
Of the holiday town. Ever I passioned, ah
Ten years, to go by her golden bra
Some sultry girl is caught, to dip my nose
Or dance where jorums clash and King Rex' hose
Slip as he rules the tantrum's orchestra,
Liriodendron, and the Mystic Krewe!
Those images of Mardi Gras' sweet weather
Beckoned — but how has their invitation ceased?
.. The bells brawl, calling (I cannot find you 
With me there) back us who were not together. 
Our forward Lent set in before our feast.