Color of the Universe

If they had told me black I would have nodded back, that solemn knowing kind, in absolutes, you find. But now they say it's green, by conjecture and unseen, a faintly turquoise hue perhaps will match my yew. (Full needled in my yard It’s stubby trunk most hard; It’s top of oval bloom renounces Winter’s gloom) But later then they say it turns to red someday and so with stars it goes with us to old age woes And so I sit and think while sipping on my drink am I a red or green in someone’s color scheme? Or do I get to choose and wager not to lose of all the reds and greens in my garden, I have seen I think I chose my rose It’s scent across my nose. Has never failed me yet so red is what I bet.