The High Jump

the high Jump Over the bay, I saw a rainbow dripping colours into the turquoise water. Nothing can be that beautiful I have seen it all Jumped from the balcony but the terrace underneath ours was bigger. Nothing was broken the flat was empty except for a Picasso painting and one by a man called Larsen, concluded the people who lived there were Norwegian I walked up the steps to my flat, let myself in the rainbow was gone but on the surface of the water I saw spilt diesel oil that often has a rainbow colour but lacks beauty. Where have you been, she said. Nowhere really just jumping about a bit.