Tripping in 3-D {from Color me Alive}

Driving home from the Smokies – ahhhh, the Blue Ridge –,
I signal gilded yellow, emerald and forest
never to pass. In the rearview, see them flicking
lights, to show they feel they are equal
to the chutzpah of the mountain ash I saw flaunting persimmon.
"Wait," I hear one honk. "Drive slow or you will forget
to save the one-time-only images we hand out.
No need to stare. Just unpack and cherish.
Remember, we are open twenty-four seven
‘case you need a lift. Take your pick of a spring bouquet
or an original collage in the red family
by internationally-famous artist, Jack Frost.
Winter will see us offering branches gracefully sculpted in ice.
Like for rain to silver, no extra charge. With nature’s wonders
at beck and call, name the prescription and it is yours.
Perhaps dark lace woven of evergreens backed by rose will help,
or black-eyed susans waving from a pasture
rich with brown and white cattle that are grazing
under oak parasols, as Sol peeks timidly between clouds
to see what lightning left. Understand you baby our cousins
at home. Even an ornery cactus or two. Why we voted you in|
our club. Rule Two: always take the scenic route
to bypass worry. Rule One: leave our beauty untrammeled.
Rule down the list: seek the aged lavender and baby pink
of uncrowded twilights and add deep-purpling peaks,
then get up at dawn and check out the east. Never fear
that if you leave us as you found us, we will neglect
to apply our balm. For us, you see,
the task is simple. Like these lines.

 

(c) Phyllis Jean Green, February, 2004