hues are shifting daily now
pink is orange
blue is deeper
reds are blood
greens are gone until Spring
she is in my sights at daybreak
evening she is there
crowding empty spaces
morning she returns
dancing in steady rising fog
i could watch her for hours
sleeping, standing, being,
or doing nothing at all
i savor the flavor
of the one bathed in beauty
sun rises regardless
and her color never changes
always blonde, always.
Southern Musings 
That’s beautiful. It leaves me wondering who ‘she’ might be, and I can think of several interpretations, but I am content to not know, to fill in the gaps myself.