The Five-Colour Rainbow

Grandad called her his five-colour rainbow. She did not think about it while he was still alive; it was his name for her.

But then when the sad days were over it took over her life – a degree, a doctorate, a professorship and, of course, that book. ‘The Five-Colour Rainbow’ was more pre-ordered than read, but those who tried really appreciated the chapter headings and the way it finished with a question.

It rained and then the sun

It rained and then the sun
came out. There should have been
a rainbow but
there was not one to be seen.
The petrol on the puddle in the road
would have to do.

Kilcol scooped up the water
and held it in his cupped palm.
His hand shook lightly,
raising gentle waves that flashed
the blue-brown rainbow sheen.

The sun disappeared. Kilcol, bored,
dropped the water and wiped his hand.
The rainbow smeared across the pavement
for a while. Nobody noticed it.
More rain came. No sun.