Browns

Written by: Autumn Rose Wood

Muted 
Spring death rises from His trees
He painted with more than purple, blues 
and 
greens
He gave us more than angry reds and the 
proverbial mellow yellows
He knows
His children 
Needed more hues for our crayons
He created a world within rich earth
Where seeds planted bloom into beauty 
and 
food and become staffs or knives
He knows
We grow
He created us so.
Rivers of mud and streets of dirt
He knows
We'd want to color it all
So
As always
He provided