What's the onset of winter like for evergreen foliage?
Golden around me,
The sun, the leaves, the ground;
Are one with another.
And I stand alone,
At the edge of our green,
At the edge of their golden.
The boundary starts with me,
An aberration, a sudden end to the warm golden.
The orange flames leap high,
Each leaf a beautiful tripartite image;
Veins of character, visibly shining
With each movement of the sun and the sky.
The beauty of this color aches me,
For isn't the image of the sun the most precious?
And here I am, green.
Singular from top to toe,
No veins shining through,
Sun's presence makes me greener.
It's like the sun highlights my envy,
Shining eternal light on my green,
Reserving it's golden sheen, for the golden others.
As I watch, days pass.
My leaves bent in shape,
Frigid in color,
Gaze upon the metamorphosis of the others.
What a marvelous sight!
And yet slowly, once golden;
They fall.
Golden rain in fall.
And soon the earth takes on their sheen,
And I remain even more lonely, green.
If anything, my green is darker now.
Today, the trees stand bare,
The golden leaves, brown with the earth now.
Color forgotten, like the sun forgets the earth,
And holds back its warmth for another tomorrow.
And yet, I am still 'another'
Not one with the earth, nor others.
Everything around me is brown now,
Almost dirty, almost forgotten,
Murky like the shadows,
Still like death;
And the green of me is what seems jarring.
Why couldn't I change with the seasons?
Why was I destined to stoicism?
Is the tree that changes with seasons,
In tune with the earth, skies and sun, better?
Or is it the evergreen one?
Am I dynamic, to be myself in changing seasons?
Or are these trees dynamic to be changing with them?
While I ponder, along comes the first snow.
The great equalizer.
For with the white, nothing remains;
But a shining, blanket of all colors and none.
And now I am one with the others,
My green is the companion to the white.
Together, green and white shall reign,
Till all that's white, is green again.
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