At the apogee, there is no tension, no tug
and the rainbow is weightless, arcing
freefall back to the planet

Hits hard on the water, in that instant
half in and out, to descend buoyantly
finally to rest silent and spent

Immersed in cool rush
on the soft polished stones
at the bottom

The run of the stream is halted

froze Time
still pulses

Caws of large birds startle the silence,
with reedy bleats to mock the passing
of now

The long taper of the fisherman
carves graceful serpents in the air,
undulates overhead, uncoils,
lays his leader down on the eddy,
a ripple, a mar on the tranquil surface

See it?  There!  Just above us…

Chagall ∞