Green

Clouds float down the gray sky river towards no destination, in odd arrangement, yet orderly and with swift movement. Behind many layers of atmosphere the sun exists as hostage, strangled and imprisoned. She coughs up bits of fiery light as she struggles and strains to break free. Below, earth continuoulsy shakes from the uncesting blunder and gusts of october wind. Each demanding blow shouts to the fragile surface and intimidates the single blades of grass, threatening them to surrender their precious coats of summer green.

I sit inside the art room with a sharpened pencil in my right hand, idel and distracted at the chaos behind the glass. My eyes stare at the frightened shreds of ground covering with remorse and sympathy. At the same time, I attempt to capture the exact tones and shades of "summer green" much like a camera lens. Repetedly my mind clicks; immediate polaroids flood into my brains file cabinet. This information may be vital in months ahead when the color drains to extinction and my mind aches for painted memories of comfort during michigan snowfalls.