this one
yellow
jaundice yellow
maybe this one
make it to red
these others
green
shiny green like Christmas bauble
did puncture my black soil
too late for ripeness
no red for them
yet I make room
range green grenades
along my window sash
though I well know
November sun pale thin
can detonate no red
look how they sit there
proud like princes
burst full of green
seed and juice
and flesh and gloss
this white sash I make altar
worship their green cockiness
worship their green swagger
worship their green ammunition
green no journey
green their glory
oh I do envy them
all ignorant
of sag and wither
know just one thing
know just this green
this unexploded now