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Promise

Promise

she looks at her

and wishes it were …

but it’s not

rainbows

don’t just rise

and fall

out of the clear

blue yonder

without a drip or drop

from deep, dark wells

the color comes

bleeding “Roy G Biv”

and then it’s gone

just like that

like fireworks and Fridays and freedom

and forests and fireflies and forget-me-knots

and just like that

it’s back

drip, drip, drip,

drop

TL

 

Published inTamiko Lowery