Petrarchan Sonnet

I tried sewing corn in the snow

I plowed and planted the field

But no crop would it yield

And I wondered where the seeds would go

Since that sat lonely upon the snow

From the birds, no dirt could shield

The eggs that frowned upon the field

They would not make it to the spring

Since their hope was crushed between jaws

And left the ground a pure white

The seeds were killed by wings

And lifted up by claws

None were left to the night