The Soul of Green prevails in Winter –
twining up in elegance: unseen by most,
perhaps, except in dreams, but still the soul
of everything. Spring is just as strong a thing
as Fall: Winter is to Summer what a bat is
to a ball: a sporting business all in all.
So why does Green seem sad today?
Intransigently frozen January can’t be what
disturbs it. January is its sibling: so are all
the other incremental phases of their seamless
cosmic unity. But Green appears to think
that it no longer can sustain it with impunity.
Something won’t go well this time around.
Something vital will be swept away, some
unsound illness will be found too virulent
for Green to bear. What could have the power
to destroy it? What force will have deployed it?
Green seems to think we can’t avoid it.