Sonny Rainshine


The Well-Digger Poem by Sonny Rainshine


This drought of serendipity,
famine of the heart,
this dry spell.

This caesura
of expectation.

The well-digger knows
where ice-cold springs
are buried.

The well-digger knows
where to look
for things that flow.

The well-digger
has grown old
and has forgotten where
the water runs,
where the water runs.

Submitted: Friday, April 7, 2006
Edited: Friday, April 7, 2006

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