I wear a feathered coat so grand, Yet never soar above the land. My legs can race the desert floor, Though wings I have, I fly no more.

I once was sap in forest shade, then heat transformed what nature made. Now I may bounce, erase, or roll, a stretchable thing with many roles.

My colors are catching to ward my fright, and catch sight. Flying free in my second life. Light and life bid me stay, despite my short heyday. I exist to pass the torch, I just happen to inspire in a way that's admired.

No matter what you say, I'm peak. No cap, except ice on me. When snow sloughs off me, don't trip, My melting streams are pure drip.

Golden kernels sleep, Harvest's bounty, life's true bread, Fields await the plow.