No Sweeter Green
On a sunny day in Bed Stuy town,
I saw a dollar on the ground;
I looked to see what eyes had seen,
And there it was, no sweeter green.
What you say, but grass is better?
Maybe, but not always to the letter,
Kentucky blue has a different glow
It cannot match this greener dough.
But what of leaves upon the bough,
Brilliant shade for a balding brow?
Yet change they must in icy chills
They bow to evergreen, no sweeter bills.
Ah, you say the Caribbean sea,
Takes the breath away, on starboard lea,
Yet, fading sun reveals pretender,
It too must bow to legal tender.
So, walking in this no-horse town,
Keep your eyes upon the ground;
If they alight on that dusty sheen,
You’ve just passed “Go,” no sweeter green!