Green And Gold


Daughters over grassy hills
Blow dandelions through their hair.
Mothers suckle milklings 'til
The tulips burst and settle there.

Turning of the fecund soil
Brings squashes round as earthen suns.
Burning of the leaves of Fall
Brings quiet ash when season's done.

Looking back on loves I've known,
Through antique windows waved by time,
As sugar peas up trestles climb
Are memories and gardens grown.

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