Green, Over the Years

2007.
Froggy! I yell from the
backseat of our awful
seafoam Ford Freestyle
that dad gave to mom for
Christmas last year. We just
drove past the beloved ad:
that billboard on highway
I-376
showing off Pittsburgh’s best
country hits radio
station with a fun frog
for a logo, biggest
smile you’ve ever seen,
focus always fixed on
the cars right below him.
We always shout Froggy
at him as we’re passing.
But Froggy, we can’t stay,

we gotta go to Camp!

2009.
Freshly Cut Grass and
smelling the Freshly
Cut Grass Clippings while
my Father Frees the
Short Shards from the Lawn
Mower. Nobody
can take care of a
Lawn quite like he does.
Or they just don’t care
as much as he does.

It’s Camp, after all!

2012.
My dad finally
finished working on
his first golf cart that
took him all of fall,
all of winter, spring,
it is finally summer.

It’s Camping Season.

He painted the cart
a shimmering shade,
bright as the Grass when
it’s Cut Fresh, smells good,
bright as my eyes that
are also his, and
when the sun shines down
on them just right they
turn from Being Mere
Brown and Boring to
Multicolored and
Mesmerizing and
I used to despise these eyes
but my view has changed
for they are much more.

2020.
Our second date,
smoking this Hue,
entering a
world of this Hue,
holding back coughs
as I inhale
this Hue;
Fire mania
while sparking this
Color, Feeling
innocence Fade
with the presence
of this Color;
but that’s okay
as this is my
Favorite Hue
of them all. And

I love you still,
even though we
have since drifted
from loving this
Hue together,
loving ourselves,
together, the
time, or better,
the lack thereof,
the love we shared
with each other
through this Color.

2022.
I wear this Color
atop my middle
finger. I wear this
Color on my neck.
The Color of the
device in which I
smoke this Color is
to be expected;
my life is engulfed
with Jade, with Olive,
with Sage, with Moss, and
I’m okay with this.

I still Lay in Grass
that’s Cut Fresh every
Time I get the Chance.
Summer is Coming,

and Camp is waiting.