I learned the maps of all the  counties here
The contour lines, the rivers   and  the meres
Then I learned  the street maps and  train lines
New golf courses built on old coal mines

I traced all of the A roads with my thumb
So I would  know the way  to kingdom come
I marvelled at  cross -Pennine Motorways
And   thought that our Lord God must be amazed

Then I followed coastline paths and cliffs
I gazed until my eyes became quite stiff.
Finally  the weather maps and clouds
And restaurants where cats are not allowed

At last I knew enough  to start to walk.
If only I had known I am  a hawk.

Some evenings, the sky turned pink

We were happy, lying in the grass

watching the sun set,

arms around each other.

Seemed like eternal life had come

Earlier than forecast
.
Those weathermen are often wrong!

They need new training.

I shall remember you

in that timeless moment

in between two raindrops,

in between two tears

https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/a-negative-freedom-thirteen-poets-on-formal-verse/

Among the many reasons poets choose to write formal poetry in the 21st century is an intuitive distaste for the imitative fallacy. To write about chaos, one need not write chaotically. It’s only a minor paradox to say that discipline and constraint unlock freedom. Steele goes on to say that form-minded poets are assumed to believe that “the universe is a nice, neat, orderly place.” On the contrary, he says:

I suspect that most people who write in forms feel that the obvious disorder and chaos of the world afflict us intensely, coming