“The Sonnet of Rainbows”
Something in me grows, the extent of which
only time knows.
I love rainbows….
Soft sultry reminders of pain displaced
and finding its way back to you,
the love of rainbows, of Rain
ending, of mist forming…
A waterfall falling,
San Andreas descending, San Onofre rising,
people talking, wedding bells chiming.
Sour rain, pits with snakes, the end of which
takes the breath clean away.
I pass the promise of Robert Frost’s two-path
example of choosing and not regretting.
Sonnets, rhythms, rhymes written in a jammie-
fest rainbow of desire, for life, for another day
well-lived and passed, for the sun, so far
away right now. For its rapid return
and the knowledge that we don’t know how.
Get your compass, right the lines, write
a poem and know that Robert and Einstein,
poets both, knew relatively little of the