Sister Andrew John’s Weblog 2

As fiery red and yellow beings dance,
their frocks, glittering in October air,
are part of them; not something that a glance
in mirror water tells them they should wear.
Their audience, tall ones in changeless green,
applaud them only with their whispered praise
and gentle inclinations as they lean
their towering heads in ever loving gaze.

For dancers who depend on gold and red,
November finds their clothing losing fast
its brilliant color. Then are garments shed
and movement stilled ’til all are gone at last.
Vert Mont! Your very name has let us see
that green’s the color of eternity.