Perhaps You Are Right

No, no, not the fast kind of Race,
the color kind of Race!, the man said.
Oh, "I see," said the flower,
"Flowers love color!" Flower offered.
Yes, yes, said the man but -
Do you fight?
Does the Lily despise the Rose?
Do the Peonies envy the Daises?
Are the Pansies mean to the Snapdragon?

"No! For why would they? We all grow together." exclaimed flower.
Differences! shouted the man.

The Sky spoke up: "What’s wrong with differences?"
"In the morning I am pink, sometimes yellow.
During the day I change to blue, and at dusk
I bear red and gold"

That’s all fine and good said the man,
But do you quarrel with the Clouds?
Surely the Wind must annoy you?
"They are not a bother to me,
No greater, no lesser.
What truck could I have with them?",
answered the Sky.

Now the Tree chimed in:
"I too am capable of change!
Spring I am brown, only the bud,
Summer Green and full but alas
Fall I brown again but not
before I go Gold and Red, and Amber!"
Of course, but you loathe the squirrel,
And the lowly Beetle that gnaws your leaves
Would you not want to shoo away
The chaos of flittering birds? asked the man.
"I do not, and I would not" answered the Tree
"They are my kin, me in different skin."

"Change your color", offered the tree
"Ride the wind", said the Sky.
"Grow!", begged the flower.

Perhaps you are right, said the man.

Christopher Stark
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