Mean Green (An ekphrastic poem)

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Sitting as still as she could, save the darting of her eyes,
she feels the green pressing down upon her
oppressive, somehow angry
Sitting still as she hurtles down the tracks,
she remembers this same green in the Emerald City
she didn’t care for it as a child either
Sitting still and alone, she shifts her gaze to
the dying of the day out side, devoid of joy
framed by that unbearable green
Not the lush green of forests or parrots
But the intolerable shade that surrounds her
making her head hurt and her stomach heave
Sitting quietly, she bites her lip to keep from screaming
Sweat pops out on her clammy brow
she dreams of the pink and gold of elegant sunsets
purple and  blue of the berries from grandmother’s garden

cegl  4.17.16

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19 thoughts on “Mean Green (An ekphrastic poem)

    • One of the themes that runs through so many of Hopper’s poems is this particular shade of green, which I find disconcerting for some reason. It puts me on edge. I don’t know why, because I love green. There was something you wrote once long ago that made me feel that same color of green in it. Weird, I suppose.

      • let’s let the eye, mine, twinkle questioning your grammar, did i disconcert you or remind you of what you always liked ? I seeing my scrapbook saving failures lately I’m not sure my last xanga saved as it’s expired and wouldn’t transfer, both of my major photostashes and an old hard drive of the first nifties i thought anyways went to the depths of memory, i saved the poems from previous to last xanga me though…. it’s almost like looking at them not through greens but oranges knowing there is a line that now is there uncrossable…those oranges flicker… you know metaphorically why *fire, just in case

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