Green the color of the earth,
chlorophyll their heart,
the plants improvise a medley,
all leaves harmonize, trill in the sheet
of the wind, the modulation of the sun,
the fade into darkness, the chorus of critters
that hum through the night,
bass, alto, a hint of bassoons
hidden in the reeds.
Red, the numbers on my scratch pad
my coins drone as they go missing,
dollars slip away, bills amass in a cadence
as deceptive as my last overdrawn check,
the bank’s dour pitch for accounting,
the refrain of my empty wallet,
gas tank, debits accumulate,
grow in measures like weeds, a coda,
zero, zero, zero, my last note a debt.
Ruth Gooley, a native of Venice, California, published her dissertation, The Image of the Kiss in French Renaissance Poetry, and has published poems in Pure Francis, Poecology, The Red Poppy Review, vox poetica, The Corner Club Press, Apollo's Lyre, Ibbetson Street Press, and Hobble Creek Review, among others. She loves poetry, hiking and canary song.