The Other Rainbow

We let the toad jump
Green in the mud-
Ran ahead of us,
Pressed palms, twined fingers,
Watched the spiders scuttle into their web.

On the horizon lies the last crimson.

Across the stripped meadow
From first row of huts
Comes the hubbub of voices-
Are you here mother
As yet?
With the other rainbow
In inverted colors.

The music of childhood is shut.