Answer:
In spring I look gay, Covered in a green array, The warmer it gets the more clothing I wear, As the cold grows, I throw away my clothes.
Where is the ocean deepest?
What is something yet nothing, but if you fill it up it will disappear?
Up on high I wave away but not a word can I say.
Nothing specific, but more than a few. This many clustered, together will do.
What is always coming but never arrives?