Under The Rainbow Poem by Byepolar Bayer

In the moment the shutter opens
the tragic mask stands out;
though maybe it's only for me:
it’s the one that catches my eye,

and in that instant: brotherhood;
I know that place; it’s a bolted gate,
against a state of grace;
and I'm at home in their regret.

It’s a tolling bell that summons
wry smiles that queue from here
all the way to somewhere looking down
on all the good that might have been,

reflected in a shadowed window
gently closed on impossible promise.