"Green Is The Color"
You stand alone, you
pine tree on rocky mountainside.
You hands of needles, you
eyes of resin, sweet mouth evergreen
to the touch. You half stretching
towards – nothing – you
stinging smell of snow, you ever scratching
spring. You circular hours falling
like rain on steep, barren days.
You moving blindly to unknown perfumed melodies
for a day – amber flowing on your cheeks
from your eyes, a flower
blossoming on your green lips
for a moment.