Iris Flores, In Retrospect Poem by Sonny Rainshine

Iris Flores still believed.
She had danced naked at Woodstock
to Jimi Hendrix’s Star-spangled chords
and the spasms of Joe Cocker’s
electrified body.
The geraniums on her front porch
still cascaded from hand-made
macrame webbing.
A purple VW bug
rusted in the back yard,
the painted-on daisies
only silhouettes now.

She still wore floor-length
shifts and granny-dresses
to work and drank Constant Comment
on her break.

She was used to people
calling her eccentric,
anachronistic,
but she still believed
everything she believed
when she was 21.

She still felt
that something was in the air,
something flowery,
something sweet,
something warm and hopeful,
like Constant Comment tea.

The state of things today,
the status quo
was for Iris not an option.
For her the summer of love
was more than just a season,
it was the beginning
of a life-long belief
in the potential of mankind.