Something I Wrote in Creative Writing

The teacher had us write whatever came to mind while she played two piano pieces on her little boom box.  Moonlight Sonata and something else, I think.  Anyway, here's what I came up with.

I do not regret leaving, but I can't say that I never looked back.  The soft air, the faint flowery smell that caressed the stone always hung motionless in the willow branches.  And the colors.  The green- the bright emerald green that pushes itself frm the landscape, rejecting it.  Only in such an ancient place does the green begin to long for the nature it came from.  Everywhere else, man has managed to subdue it. But not there.  Not where they burried you.  Not where man returns to green and flowers and becomes beautiful again.