Pale Green
The color of a Luna Moth's wings at night, as it flutters on a soft breeze, under the brightly shining stars.
The color of lichen growing on rocks, resilient in the most barren places, finding a way to survive.
Pale Green
Like Moonlight, shining against the leaves of a tree.
It reminds me to create my own little fantasies, and to wonder;
But most importantly, it reminds me to dream.
The moon whispers
Oh so quietly, yet
It is louder than all else
Its words wind through the frozen trees and dance across the sparkling snow, the forest still but for its wavering reminder that
The stars are reflected in the glimmer of the headlamp's light on the snow
And the air is frozen-- it feels like the sensation of holding your hand under water so burning hot that
it begins to feel cold
somehow.
A day as grey as
the clouds above it
And the hills, which have changed from green to orange to purple to a deepest blue in the fading light
with a few bursts of yellow from the beech trees, holding on in their marcescence
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