Riding On A Rainbow
Riding on a Rainbow
We had to store you in darkness –
March – the ground, too hard.
Four men wore black suits – they
carried you, you – inside brass –
on each side, “The Lords Prayer,”
tried – to ignore the dirt, an empty
hole, people gathered in May to
say goodbye – it was another day.
“Until We Meet Again,” – marble
shinned in sunshine, you waited
forty-four days – for May.
With a deep swallow – I smiled –
it was forty four days since you
passed away, your numbers when
you visited the track – you always
won. . .
Forty-four days you waited, near
a place where you grew, where
you walked by on your way to
school, and it had to be the only
place you told me you never
wanted to stay – to wait – but
you lived near the border of
Vermont, and in March the winds
whip through like a freight train,
and the ground so frozen we had
faces – and knew God was rejoicing.
As raindrops fell so lightly on our
face – we stood, waiting for you to
say goodbye – until the rainbow disappeared.
Although we knew you never stayed
up on the hill, near the heart Father made
especially for you, with the “Irish Prayer,”
you are still riding on a rainbow near
heavens gate – last week, you said hello,
it wasn’t a surprise – it’s your way of letting
us know, you are still here – still sitting at –
our side of our world.