It will blend
With his phone
With his watch
With his agility
With his guile
Against the lawn
He is not set
Rather he is fixed
Affixed, if you are so affected
It's easier for him
Being green than anything so distinct
As yellow
Or blue blazes
Or limelight (on the too-bright side)
Honey bees acknowledge him
With the passivity all creatures owe
To their counterparts in existence
Squirrels may skitter upon him
In their haste to return
To safer, manless heights
None but he acknowledge the passions
That led him to the edge of mowed society
To blend in with not his fellows
Rather among yielding leaves of grass
Roman Ryan 