Too many to count and name

Spend a day out there looking

Wonder at green that signals

The beginning and end of things

 

New life hopeful at the start

Buds and sprouts a gentle hue

Then failing flesh and mold

Suggests doom and decay

 

Heed the waning of green

As a warning that our Mother

Will indeed purge herself

Of our manmade sickness

 

Should green become a memory

It shall be too late

How do we tell our children

That there was green