In Rainbows Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Beautiful page,
Someone laid you beneath a helicopter in the
Dead center of a garden,
As the virgin kissed the snake who fed her
The apple
And all of that was ripe and golden,
And we rode bicycles against the wedding dresses
Of her road,
Away from home and to the circus,
As the buzzards washed the clouds—and my mother
Caught her feet in rainbows
Into the marital bliss of another mirage’s estuary,
And we held hands as we
Rode horses,
And cut the paper into snowflakes and
Told ourselves we didn’t have to worry.