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My sonnets don’t usually come in pairs, although looking back on them I can see them being paired sometimes as sequels or cousins. Paradoxically, these two came as a pair because they are so different from each other. The darker mood of the one that came second (“Clocking In”) rebukes the lighter mood of the one that came first (“Kings”). Why I should have objected puzzles me now.

‘Both belong to a cycle of nine, mostly written during my stay in the rural Connecticut countryside to escape the Covid-19 pandemic during the Spring and Summer of 2020. Both are addressed to writers I admire. “Last Breath” begins the cycle. It was written while remembering my late friend Carl Weissner, before the pandemic began. “The Way the Lines Break” ends the cycle. It was written toward the end of my stay and is addressed to Théophile Gautier, whose poems and stories I was reading thanks to the suggestion of my friend Gerard Bellaart.’ — JH

“an unknown power / the glass bell of midnight / neither sends nor tracks / whatever the hour / the quivering eye / everything human / the nearness of clouds / bright sun in blue sky” — J.H.

“Pay no heed to society. Wear the mask / of the beast over your animal face. / … Breathe through the nostrils of the dead / and witness how the evening mountains / devour the entrails of the sky.” — M.R.

Folio designed by Gerard Bellaart, with detail of a painting by Constable.