by Carol Smith
 
Orange you glad in ‘62
The World’s Fair Fathers built for you
The Space Needle whose stunning view
Was meant for all, not just a few?
 
Orange you glad they had the grace
To keep her home an open space
Instead of just a breeding place
Where condos would obscure her face?
 
Orange you glad they’ve kept her charm
Protected her from weather’s harm
Or those who would her style disarm
By sounding age’s false alarm?
 
Orange you thinking she’s first rate
And isn’t her new-old color great
So why don’t we ask, before it’s too late
On changing her back, why can’t they wait?