I like my green converse
They aren’t black, like the night without the moon and stars
Or the bottom of the ocean
Or the greasy cast iron pan
They aren’t red, like the blood
That flows in my veins
Or the sunset at seven
Or the maraschino cherries in my fridge
They’re green,
Like the grass beneath my feet
Like the painting in my dining room
Like a ripening banana
Green is my favorite color,
so I like my green converse