Green Rests the Eyes

          It's hardly an accident that green rests the eyes
          of even marines on the rifle range—listen:
          "All marines on the firing line, now hear this:
          uncover and rest your eyes inside your helmets;
          look into the green insides of your liners . . ."
          And all marines hear now and look inside,
          look into the cool dark green of their hats,
          careful not to look too deeply—just inside their hats.

          It's hardly an accident that green rests the eyes
          and that red, the fiery end of the earth, repels them:
          Long ago, in dark-green mossy time,
          man peered green and deep inside and out—
          man was the vine, the leaf, the blade—oh! there it is . . .
          blinding in the sun, a blade bringing blood;
          and blood is red as tracer fire from marines' machines,
          red as hot fire from a flame-thrower in a cave-mouth,
          red as crimson mushrooms
          thrusting through the dusty grey of ash . . .

          It's hardly an accident that green rests the eyes.
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