NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost
It's that time of year again where this Frost poem is so apt. As the new foliage sprouts, its hue is a yellow-green before the deeper green takes hold. The aspens on the prairies will soon take on that first green as gold.
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