Green was the colour of day
when clots stuck to corduroy
and cool mornings as a boy.
Green was aching for envy
at the daisy chain round her neck
and him with buttercups beckoning.
Green was the lie of biting
grass – a child’s drug –
and sap that boys claimed aphrodisiac.
Green hued in the teens for crack,
and the Mac, and the Jack and
the grey-citied album-track.