Rainbow Dreams

What color is your parachute?

A question posed by a book

my father bought me.

But to say my parachute

was rainbow may have been

too much of a tell.

A job was an easier find

than romance. Almost

any parachute would do,

but how does one

find love without a map?

Not knowing even what

it might look like.

Love was not a job I could

apply for, and yet when the light

hit right I knew.

My parachute was rainbow

and would lead me safe

to the soft earth that

would hold me.

Now, I write

my life in journals

of every color

to remember.

.