A rainbow planted one foot on land
and another on top of the ocean.
I know how they work:
Water particles split light into its tendencies.
But I don’t know why the colors band,
why they twice touch the bottom of the sky,
or why they paint a half circle
so perfect that it confounds Plato. So I lost my explanation for a moment.
The rainbow became a gift
so orderly that it must be a sign. I was watching as someone else.
Believe me, I know
there is no giver of the gift
and no sense in the sign, just the modern embarrassment
of looking at a rainbow.

(Please remember Blogging Rule #3: We must forgive one another’s poetry.) [Technorati tags: poetry]

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