It isnae aften ye see that, A says

tae the laddie, comin hame frae the gemm;

A dooble rainbae!  The twa airches raise

heich i the lift, lik soarin ambeetioun

or the leemits tae whit a bairn micht cam,

their colours transpairent, as the sunlicht,

settin, slipp’t its knife atween clood an grun

an crack’t open the shell o the dreich nicht.

The laddie wis quiet for a wee, then speirt

We’ve seen loats lately, but?  An so’s we hud.

Which gart me wunner hoo the magick cud

seem sae ordnar an no mak him sae feart

as A wis... Mebbe A'm gettin owre auld

tae tak in ma stride the swick o the waurld.