Upon one hazy evening
Beneath the colored leaves
A poet kneels softly
And in the silence grieves.
Upon seeing this visage
A bright young student stands,
Walks towards the poet’s place
And with a screech demands
“Did you really write a poem
“That describes the leaves as ‘colored?’
“I find that language offensive
“And conclude you are a dullard!”
The poet still kneels softly
Beneath the not-green leaves,
And now you understand human stupidity
Which is why the poet grieves.
The Daily Travesty 