A Plea for Green

Green are the hills for children:

a sunlit place of grasses,

dandelions and daisies;

as green as an apple, a fig,

an unripe fruit; the green

of memory and melody,

the scrubby bushy slopes

for exploration; tall trees

to climb, parks to run through.

Screens are not green

or sunlit; the blue wild

winds do not blow there –

a static buzz bends

the mind in dark rooms.

This is my plea for green.

Jaz Stutley

• Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22