I mind an avenue of trees
rising deftly beyond the sun
and the sense that today
is tomorrow, and tomorrow
has quite capriciously gone.

I remember the leaves
tickling briskly the tips
of my calloused fingers
and how I marveled enviously
at their ever changing colors.

Intently I stared at the blue
of the sky overhead,
distinguishing at last that
precious moment when clouds
turn colder than snow.

But what mattered most of all
as the fallen leaves settled
beneath my feet and found peace
was the recognition that green
is still green and always will be.

Except when it is blue.


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