Browns
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
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