For a moment at sunset a rainbow lay on the lake
a blanket of color as sun set in shades of purple and pink,
while a jet and its contrail cross the sunset,
a loon drifts on the lake, her chick
a passenger on her back.
I wonder if passengers on the plane
see the rainbow and sunset,
see the lake where we sit by the dock
in the last glimmer of day.
High above they sip their drinks
and think about landing,
after crossing five time zones—
loons know no time zones,
programmed to fly
when the time comes,
and for us as sunset and rainbow
fade into night,
there is only this moment in time,
as fireflies hover over the lake.
