The rainbow hovered low over their home. Large clouds had been pushing it down from the sky for miles. Drying her hands on her long skirt, she stepped on to the warm terra cotta tiles.
She tried to follow the colors through the backyard. Past birds, benches, flowers and pots, blooms on their vines that covered the fence. She pushed gently through the gate. Greens, purples, yellow, orange, and reds splayed up the barn. Curving hard straight up to the clouds.
She walked out in the field, wildflowers reaching and brushing her thighs. Running her palm across their warm tops, she raised her hand to shield her eye.
The sun shone down in several golden rays. She traveled on to the hill before town, and this is where she looked down. Her feet were bare in such a hurry to see the fine displays.
This is where they would walk, hand in hand, each morning, each night. To stand on worn tall grass, to hear childrens’ laughter. They might talk while they watched them play. Their smiles needed, no cares at all.
Then she felt his warm hand on her shoulder. She asked how he knew where she went? He said he needed to hold her. He looked through the clouds. He thought he saw rainbows and on the hill he saw her stand.
They walked home. The clouds and the rainbows had melt on the stone. The stars dwelt high in the sky. They sat on the lawn and watched them twinkle and mingle.
Dawn came upon the garden with a pardon of dew. When they looked on this day, old clouds had gone. New clouds took them away.
