Green

Green

Green, my mountains are green,

How do I tell you what I have seen?

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In the spring, a shimmering green, thin and new

That holds on against windy day and still cold night.

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In my ninth year, I discovered green.

Not the green in my small box of crayons,

But the green of my mountains.

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Did you know that the sky was a rare thing

To us,

The children of the mountains?

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Often our sky was covered by clouds.

Always,

The green of my mountains fought to cover my little sky.

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You may delight in a golden day. My sunny day

Dripped through green trees.

My sunny day was green.

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My endless trees covered roads

Like

A great quilt celebrating all the world's greens.

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There were so many greens laying stitched one upon another

That my teacher

Did not know their names.

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I then began to collect greens:

The very highest mountains had the darkest green,

A very cold green,

A timeless green,

A green that did not seem to move.

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Near the house was a giant shade tree, and

It was a green hinting of swings and picnics.

It was a friendly green that whispered, "Hurry!"

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Along the road the greens were thorny

They promised caution,

Danger,

And berries, soon.

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I had begun to color all the greens that I found

So

I asked my teacher for a bigger box of crayons.

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I have that box of crayons even now.

Only the greens

Have been used.

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