When I was little,
I always thought trees were abundant,
Going on forever,
That's how it always seemed,
I would get strapped up in the car and all I could see were flashes of green in the spring,
Orange in the fall.
I understand now,
That I'm older,
That trees don't go on eternally and never have,
I can look at the Green Mountains,
And see the green waves reflecting the shadows of the clouds,
And I can still see the green staining my eyes,
Now from the front seat,
Instead of the back,
I can still see the maple trees in my front yard,
The ones I'm growing to be taller than,
That were mere saplings when we moved in.
The orange leaves remind me of fire,
Raging and burning the trees,
And the mirror of blue sky,
Reminds me of the rising of seas,
And lack of freshwater.