Eleven steps

 
 
When I become the colours of the sun that shine through Autumn and her hair
I will be there in every rainbow watching rain blow with the wind.
 
Willing back the sand that drops so casually from the glass she holds within her hand,
I stand with my arms outstretched, my head bowed as if in prayer,
but always there
always where
you are.

© 2019, John Smallshaw.