A beautiful constant

Gray color peaks in
Through windows of Spring
Putting trees without leaves brown
And muddying streams until unknown
And I
Only wishing to see true color and then
Have to go to whichever room you are in
Just to see such lovely greens again

Not that I mind, mind you
My own mind will never complain of this truth

For all the slow bleeding colors of Spring
Cannot compare to the consistency of you


Saria