Green.

Green.

In the midst of the cold.
of the gray, blank sky,
of the stiff, tired earth,
the brown grass,
the bare trees...
the winter
there is green.
It is hidden,
on a windowsill,
on my windowsill,
in two separate pots.
Two different plants,
living,
and green.
In moist black dirt
sitting, waiting for the sun
to break through the clouds
so they can feast, grow, and stay green.
silent
but present

two plants remind me

that this dreary emptiness
will pass;
that
this frostbitten winter
will not last
forever
but that spring will come again
and there will be more
green.

Written by Marie DeVries