“Have you ever seen a sundog?”
“No what’s that?”
“Symbol of a plentiful hunt to come.
Rainbows on each side of the sun.”
“Oh yeah? Never seen one. How’s that happen?”
“Don’t know, but I’ve seen ‘em twice,
on two separate occasions,
once in a hot spring back in the Junction.
The other on a walk home
with my daughter from the park.”
The light of a squinting eye
Through the keyhole of dawn
In through prisms and prisons alike
Fractured light turns into shadow and gone
Like those of a dream you’d rather be done
A nightmare becomes before
Breaking upon waking that dreams are already true
Distorts and cracks at the source
Not as the rainbow who bends her arc
Kaleidoscope twists. Kaleidoscope grinds.
No bend no arc no beginning no end
Kaleidoscope twists. Kaleidoscope turns