flush green here, yellow beyond. I could take a boat,
row out upon the meadow to the new housing
development there at the North of town. Then,
when I arrive at the yellow swathe of--grass? lake?
I'll dip a silver cup in that bright shine and drink.
Only when I see it do I crave it--yellow.
And I need to take it in by gallons. Once
filled, I glow. If I climbed that tree,
the monstrous one near Avenue Three,
the whole town would forget the sun and worship me.