Your Poem

Evening hued mountains,

Lush with autumnal forestry

That plays "red light, green light" with the sun.

Glorious gold

Angry crimson

Grieving brown

Joyful orange.

Silent guardians

Of the new buds

And the watching undergrowth.

Benevolent providers

Of the parasitic spectators,

Large

And small

That feed off them

And nestle in their trunks

And burrow in to their strong bodies.

The providers themselves hope to become each a sun;

That is how "red light green light" goes.

In the black time of every day,

The provider goes away

And the players are lost

And are eaten by the Shadows

Until the provider returns

And the game of life continues

Like nothing had gone astray.