I wear flowers in my hair,
Even when they’re not in bloom.
Vining plants are everywhere,
Winding ‘round my room.
God made four seasons to be;
He is wise and he is fair.
Still, I look around and see
The Green is ever there.
Let me dream that things can stay,
Even after a farewell.
Then I can more easily say,
“So long—time will tell.”
Autumn does not mean a thing:
Forests spring up in my heart.
This dream I’ll keep nurturing,
Until I’m full of art.
Mariella Hunt 