The Green

Chiqui Rodrigues

Chiqui Rodrigues

Gone the green

that marked the spot

where children once played

in the springtime of

a lakeside day 


Gone to brown

in an August heat that

dries one to the very bone

leaving our mouths to

thirst for grace


And the green

where has it gone?

Across the sea to a moor

where sheep graze

behind a hedge


Here the brown

only awaits the rain

that one day must return

to awaken arid roots 

to a new spring


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to The Green

  1. somewhere is drought and somewhere is flood and somewhere the green is forever


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