with green so bright and protective
how could i ever need anything more?
wind makes her dance for me
and our smiles linger like old lovers.
Flecks--fragments--twist and coil
falling to dirt and rippling water
going back to what it was before
and i see that the green
is fading before my eyes
This vain beauty will soon be a memory
contained only within these pages
And darkness will hush her early
this year
Perhaps she just needs her beauty sleep?
Or perhaps death will become her.
When will we ever know for sure,
which moment will be our last?