Greenish Veins

The old downspout, on the garage side,

has seen its share of sun and tide.

Once bright, a new penny's gleam,

now muted, like a waking dream.

It wears its years, a green-brown coat,

a map of weather, something to note.

The texture, rough, where acid rain

has worked its art, again and again.

A scratch reveals a sliver bright,

a flash of orange, a hidden light.

But mostly, it's this deep, quiet hue,

a slow surrender, seen through and through.

It just keeps changing, bit by bit,

and doesn't care who notices it.