Barbara Harris Leonhard This isn’t a sonnet about gold-leafed mantelslined with stolen trophies. It’s about our grannies, crocheting mantles of our legacies. This is a sonnetfor the Jackson Magnolia. Its demise provides space for a vast golden ballroom fashioned for the fake king.This sonnet isn’t for that great pretender. This is a sonnet about underage … Continue reading Sonnet for the Untitled