Sonny Rainshine Poems

I never really thought
about their connection to the food supply
or what perfect testaments
to the fragile interconnectedness
...

Much like slender zebras queued up,
an infantry in black and white camouflage,
the birch trees in the distance
motioned to me with palsied gestures,
...

That day the pine forest
a quarter-mile down the road
caught fire. Ponderosas, loblollies,
stalwart Southern titans: all charred pillars,
...

Blood red
is the color of the leaves
on the sycamore in the cemetary
where gardenia beds
...

He listens to music,
to mask the rhythm
of his loneliness.
...

I often look at the azure sky of mid-morning,
or the purpling crawl of twilight,
the Joseph's-coat of the sky at sunset.
...

Did your mom ever say:
“If you can’t say something good
about your neighbor,
Don’t say anything? ”
...

Little green capsules
swollen from within,
the mid-March buds are filled
with sap and sassiness,
...

How many times will you go to the well?
How many rhymes will it take to tell
your story?
...