Green's Turn

Part One
by Chris Highland

We speak of "turning."
   Seasons turn
   The weather turns.
The verdant fields
   turn
   to a white-light fur
   coating the rolling earth.
But maybe it's simply
   one color's turn
   to fill the canvas in Nature's studio.
   I don't know.
Where does the green go?
It lies latent as sky's blue mask.
It packs up and migrates in the night
to distant continents;
Some stays back, nesting in spring-splashed glens
and shaded groves.
Some green never leaves some leaves.
Some leaves, to journey back
   chlorophylling the fields of view
   re-turning not to turn
but to assume an expected position
in this disorderly order of easels we turn to:
Nature.