It was as simple a thing as pesto
The green of it
The freshness of it
The scent, that, make no mistake,
Made me forget the difficult bridge
I’d thought to jump from
But instead crossed, then burned
On purpose
For good
Tag Archives: Green
Mid West
Woman to your man
Mirror to your vice
Skin to your fingertips
Proxy, perhaps
And all seems green to me
Stripes
We share Little in common
The Monk and Me
Soft, furtive early risers
Though grounded, I, facing West,
Facing East, He
And dining together, I linger
Dashes, He
Little Green Space we share, we
Mormon Row
With grateful paintbrush in hand, I am leaving space for you
A beautiful a background, careful, I capture the sun
Find now open an area broad enough and close enough to the sky
That your shoulders might fit and comfortably give rest to what is
I know not the shape of you, tho’ your colors, you’ve made clear
Bright-dark weathered patina that complements my tempest greens
Vivid chards of amber to offset my mountainous blues
Your easy frame an open window, a willing respite
Fighting your way, straight to the foreground of me, for me
Withstanding, will they find us, the very wildest of climes
Green
And when we’re nearly ninety-nine
Fading, yet certain of our fate and the love it made with us
Green still, relatively so
We’ll walk, treasuring the sands, the time
Rey
I had a Dream
I persecuted him
I cross-examined him
Until the scales of justice shone into my eyes
Then came dawn
I looked and saw his name
Rey, a prince of light
I spared his life
I was a dream
Pursued by him
He bided his time
My green eyes and my green dress stole his sanity
Then we danced
He jumped and took my hand
It was the city lights
He saved my life
Undistracted
I watched
You watch
The fleeting snow
Before it took its leave
You put down your go
What did it tell you
What it told me
That bruises aren’t all bad
That time heals
All things
We saw
The three of us
You, me and the sky
The blue-green in our eyes’ skies
Not one can predict us
Lincoln Green
Why if we scream
Are we questioned
Our sanity
Our faithfulness
Our allegiance with true patriots
What of war cries
Of the war crimes
Our eyes opened
Our sleeves rolled-up
Our feet planted where lies cannot stand
When Good returns
To the Empire
Who’ll be kneeling
Who’ll be weeping
Who’ll be seeing that they have no clothes
Spring Green
There was in that dark house
A dark corner
Barricaded by a bookcase
Shelves of borrowed, unused wisdom
Visitors might only glimpse
One trying afternoon
Two deja vu’s too many
A final conversation
A one-sided determination
A voice overdue journeyed forth
And She Said
Let there be light
For She Knew
There should be light
There can be color
There in the aftermath
A dark mess
Cobwebs and chipped paint
A different bookcase revealed
She scrubbed and painted Green
All Things
I am most in fear
Of a heart
That would become green
Then turn six shades of scarlet besides
