So it's morning or afternoon
and there's an invisible cone
lying prone, see, with you
at the narrow end and a curtain
of mist droplets at the wide
end. The sun's behind you,
working hard as usual, low
enough to tip the cone to
a 42 degree angle. Now
the droplets confer. They
get in prism formation so
the conical curvature in the mist
blushes variously red orange
yellow green blue indigo violet.
At this crucial juncture,
the mist sings to the sun,
although you can't hear
the song. But you sure
can see it, yes you're in the right
place at the well lit time.
hans ostrom 2020
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