At first glance green seems to be a simple color,
just as every situation looks easy from a distance.
With each representation of the color, a different shade
to show the disparity of the state of affairs.
The association with nature and health is valuable
but then there’s the alter ego of death and poison.
When a lover is wearing a leprechaun’s fancy suit,
revenge slithers in their eyes in the form of a viper.
Other times, it feels like looking up through leaves
in the summer time with as many worries as a first-grader.
Even so, the good times felt like the small dark lines
on a large spring watermelon, still not ripe enough for picking.
Mint a softer tone just as the foam coming off the sea,
when there was talking with pillows and exhaustion.
Before emotions were as layered as onions,
and tears to fill and to overflood the Nile River.
When white lies never wore emerald studded collars,
previous to envy slipping jades to hypocrisy under the counter.
The longing to see apples instead of broccoli
on the dinner plate of a picky eater.
Sharing the same need for things to be just right,
to avoid the transformation of a suspicious caterpillar
into the overbearing mistrustful butterfly.
Feeding on the nectar of nightmares and anxious troubles.
Fighting should have been telling cabbage and artichoke apart,
rather than explaining the difference of appearance between
a cucumber and a zucchini. Make ups shouldn’t be
treading in lake waters looking for a crocodile.
Every issue starting at the size of a gecko, growing on disaster
until a kimono dragon is standing in front of you.
A shamrock vial was slipped into the wine,
just as an ex-lover and friend slips into conversation.
Instead of the sweet honesty of kiwis and pears,
the wine was contaminated into the bitterness of brussels sprouts.
A drink shared between the tortoise and the hare,
as innocent as lime jellybeans, as dangerous as moldy peas.
Yet the blush of spring on Mother Earth is alive
a smile gracing your eyes and much as your lips.
Those same eyes, the cause of acid rain on my face
creating a chartreuse lake called the Loch Ness.
The subject of needing a potion or an antidote
for love is questioned, yet it is never asked.
If we could perceive the auras or souls of other people,
just as we can look into one another’s eyes on first encounter.
We could better understand the emotions felt with out
the complication of a color code to avoid miscommunications.
But then green isn’t a person, message, or an emotion;
just simply a secondary shade of color on a wheel.
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