Tonight as the sky formed and shifted
around thunder heads crossing the river 20
miles away a bit west and north of here,
the trees formed the green of my thoughts,
and I found a blue, lovely and deep like
the words I search for even now.
The spotted paint horses hang low
and smooth in my mind staged
in the pale pasture with trees behind.
I am lost. I want to be in the dark brown
sheen of the animals and the quiet of their eating.
The stallion is taller than the rest, and I feel tired
to think of his strength.
Then I finally see it; a rainbow hangs over the southeast.
I can see where both ends met the horizon
and now the wind
and now the slow drops to wash, refresh,
and make new my ragged hope.
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