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Poem: April Yellow 

When palest, juicy willow buds
festoon the trees, the green-to-be
of leaves soon hits the high notes:
lightest, brightest tones. Forsythia!
how fragile branches sway
and tremble with a starry load
of bloom, no room for even one more
urgent burst of gold.
The daffodils are opening
their mouths in round surprise
(inhaling sun) new dandelions
polka-dot the lawns
while blue-crowned pansies bare
their glowing hearts to April light
(yes) promises of bliss

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Judith Saunders.

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