The insufferable green succumbs to gray,
and I can start thinking again,
my blood thickening from the new chill,
giving me strength where the violent green took it away—
And I think of winter and its simplicity
the charm of gray twigs against gray sky.
The sparkle the world gets under a blanket of snow
and how when the world is all monochrome
the rare flashes of green in the holly and the ivy,
the mistletoe and the first crocuses, comes like magic
like love, like revelation
and the red of rowan berries and imported apples,
robins and poinsettias, reminds the blood of life and birth.
And then I can look forward to the spring
and the idea of green seems less hateful
because I know now that seasons do change.
Time has not forgotten me;
life does roll on.