There was a rainbow across the valley. Today.
It started with a colourful blister under the cloud next to the barn.
And it grew up, up into the violet grey.
A natural pride flag unfurling upward from the pot of gold,
And other metaphors.
Elsewhere, across valleys in other countries illumination comes from enemy incendiary and doesn’t need a figure of speech,
Or other literary folderol.
You know,
Sometimes silver linings are not as reliable as you’d hope.