the golden, multi-colored rainbow is walking, away.
and i am dragging her pot-o-gold she left behind.

i know, i too thought it'd be coins, swag, contraband;
yet as i shoulder all rainbows, 'til they arrive, bent.

just the shape to reach the smallest of all creatures;
a gift from above to be used below, by us. a reverence

can be drawn from this and a five year-old who asks,
pawpaw, do i look the same as yesterday? do i look older?

that's what a rainbow is for, for the young and growing;
too, they're to carry in your 64 year-old, five year-old heart.

05/04/2011

Posted on 05/04/2011
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