Mantra                                                    November 14, 1999

I prefer the red of a ripe apple
to that of a stop sign;
I prefer the yellow of warm sunlight
to that of a school bus;
I prefer the blue of a serene lake
to that of a police uniform;
I prefer the green of verdant meadow
to that of a ten dollar bill;
I prefer the white of unspoiled snow
to that of a sales receipt;
I prefer the gray of an overcast day
to that of a concrete building;
I prefer the black of the night sky
to that of a paved road.

I have far too long labored in the city;
now I wish to go and live among the trees,
seeking only to deepen my relationship
with my two fair loves: land and weather.
Poetry

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