What Shades Are
Our Fields?
A stereo shock of
ruffians,
taking advantage
of discontent,
inciting jealousy.
A person in debt,
tendering a
notable beg.
Green stands
unsophisticated
for these
characters.
The meddlesome
slither
through grass,
of an emerald
serpent
as light green
lizards run for safety.
Within these same
forests are
needy new shoots
under a green cheese moon,
ribbed
plants
offering lively
camouflage
abutting dirt
paths.
A medley of
foliage resting on the ground,
each leaf that
fails to hold onto the tree
is carrying
eternity within it.
As sure as God
made little green apples,
our grassy fates
on each side of the fence
tell us how
seasoned we are.
Linda
Imbler
Linda Imbler is the author
of seven paperback poetry collections and four e-book collections (Soma
Publishing.) This writer lives in Wichita, Kansas with her husband, Mike
the Luthier, several quite intelligent saltwater fish, and an ever-growing
family of gorgeous guitars. Learn more at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com.