Brown

Leafless, grey, gnarled,

they hibernate in the clays

of the brown crag.

 

Their red, yellow,

orange gildings,

two months gone,

have blown downward.

 

Blending in the black,

snowless winter,

the leaves are now brown

as the crags.

 

Books say brown

is the most unpopular color.

 

But, today, I’m not greedy.

 

Amidst a fleeting, tenuous

escape from conflict,

seeking

only

a

few

days

of

peace,

 

This brown highway’s good enough.