17

I cringe at the internal reference to the Great Gatsby,

as I realize my own "green light" has been leading me

across the ocean to I do not know where.

my eyes too have been glazed over from that

sparkling, warm, buzzing yellow-green,

I thought it was the future and the now.

the word "green" forces the mouth into a smile,

corners of my lips curled outward, eyes gleaming.

green is only a color,

a perception of the human eye

it casts its airy blanket over anything and
I follow.

I like brown and black and yellow and purple and orange and pink and red as well but

everyone understands green.

I tend to think in colors and not words.