Light Blue

I remember you, light blue.
Those were the years when I was just passing through.
When I didn't care, and my back was turned—
Resignation that I hadn't earned.
I've got this tear in me since I don't know when.
Don't let it out—don't ask me how.
But can you tell me why? 'Cause I need to know
Why it kills the young and it melts the snow.
And why I can't see its face, as it crawls back up the hill,
Where its feet leave no trace, asleep for months, getting its fill.
I have heard of you, dark green—
All the knowledge that I've never seen.
Draped in front of me like a lucky chance
To change your clothes before the dance.
You've got this glow in you—can you show me how
To give up less than they allow?
Or is it set in mud that you can't get off,
No matter how you shout and cough?
And as your voice echoes high, will it find the room it needs
To know that nothing is a shame, not the fruit, and not the seeds?