Water and ice,
Dripping and freezing on
Crystalline silver on pale not-green
What is the color of lichen covering the trunk, branches and bare limbs of the maple trees outside my window?
To those of the wood, it is
Familiar; identifiable; recognizable.
The undergarments of northern woods,
Exposed on branches laid otherwise bare by autumn.
Creamy, pale, velvety.
Definitely not green. But what?
I see now how well it matches the color of the walls here in my living room.
That was not intentional.
Sea foam green. Perhaps.
Though in all my years living near and gazing at the sea,
I've seen the ocean's many colors,
Angry and dark, deep greens and blues
Playful sheets of shimmering light
But I've never seen the ocean render the color we call sea foam.
Psych ward green. Perhaps.
But no, it is far too sensual for such attribution.
Upon such examination & reflection,
I shall never see the branches as bare again.
The trees exposing their dainties when they drop their leaves for the winter. The hardwood forest a giant burlesque show that opens each fall and runs until spring
Shy and demure in a gentle snow,
Raucous and wild as a nor'easter blows blizzard-like across the canopy