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.

#Poetry #CreativeWriting #Summer