In the morning there was green,
A cool, whispering green infecting the spruce and air.

Within the covetous morning
They harbor the dark –
The spruce and air in collaboration with
More green than I can understand.

My sight is green like the stem of a flower
Used to promote something more interesting.

Green is what I see alone in the canals
That swerve my needs.

Yet I dislike al l but the brightest, loudest of greens
Because they remind me of my perfect noon.