The smooth natural feel of the road,

A reflection of the luscious forest that surrounds,

Cars flow through green fluorescence;

Like cash out of a printing press,

A crisp vibrant green,

George smiles from cheek to cheek.

Green means go, as the flag is waved,

A shade of happiness,

Infectious.

The green-blue sky melts into the sea,

Plastered foliage clings to the shore,

Faded away from years of blue,

Aged dark green haunts of the past.

A change in scenery startles,

Hesitation takes the wheel,

The bright yellow dot no longer clouded and overpowered,

But stands alone.

Loneliness replaced by another,

Oppressive heat emanates from the street light,

Cars bent into place by the burning hammer,

None may oppose.

The bright ball of fire blends with the Earth,

A new beginning,

Skinner agrees.