A Purple Rainsong

A Purple Rainsong

April 30

by Tys Sweeney

A perfect orange-purple haze
With percolated sunlight rays
Graces morning pure and new
As though Earth were a fresh picked fruit.

Brought on by a dim and rainy black-
Ten seconds for every lightning crack.
A subtle wind of warm clean air-
It was midnight in Florida, both here and there.

Bolts of storm crossed the cloudy theater,
And in calm and perfect rage brought pure
And untampered, a new Spring home:
The darling of the people’s come.


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