Over It

When I pause to notice, looking up from green earth and away from my own thoughts, I am reminded that the world spins the sun right overhead every day.  Every day.  Bright afternoons the color of tangerines with whipped cream clouds give way to evening skies in shades of a bruise.  Hydrangeas blue and big as dinner plates droop over sidewalks and skin, having not passed every moment in the shade, turns brown.  And then I can't get past the idea that, when I pause to notice it, there are rainbows when there aren't.

 JEB