unending summer

a softer kind of green that won't recall
the crowing cocks at every time of day
nor tropic trees with roots in the hard clay

of suchlike things the memories must fall
into the silence for we must not stay
a softer kind of green that won't recall

times when the watcher still felt very small
on mountaintop looking down at the bay
while behind the tall trees would gently sway
a softer kind of green that won't recall