About the Poem
My friend and I were exchanging topics for poems; I was abruptly asked to produce one on the topic of "picnic- cooler colors. " It seemed a particularly unpoetic subject. Whether I rose properly to the challenge, you must judge.
|by Ted Reynolds
In spring, green.
I reach among the close- packed leaves and pluck the fruit.
The juice trickles sweetly down my throat.
In summer, blue.
I smoothly dart a fish from the running river current.
It has been kept fresh all year for our supper.
In autumn, orange.
I scoop handfuls of cool sticky stuff full of seeds.
Jack- o'lantern and pumpkin pie!
In winter, white.
I lift a handful of cold new snow to my thirsty lips.
My tongue gratefully licks it up.
(My picnic coolers and their colors make me happy.)
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