Failing Gloom

the sun is here,
with with no gray beards
the only clouds
have flown by noon
the hills are still
brown with weeds
yet higher up
there's snow enough
I'm sick of winter hikes
with only brown and white
the only green
to be seen
is on dull weeds with
frost nipped ends
I want to go
where green pillars
stand proudly
having vanquished
the brush and snow