The hills no longer green
my daily commute turned dull
summer is coming -
we can no longer show our color
that is what they rustle to one another
super bloom passed
oh the joy that it brought
to my eyes each day as they wandered not on the road
the hills have eyes, too
they see how we stare at them
gleefully in the midst of their glory
yet they also see
the disdain in which we view them in the heat of the year
they are saddened deeply by their unstellar performance.
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