Yellow flowers first
as year revolves to spring
Yarrow
crouches ankle-high
on the clifftops.
Daffodils
yield to children
selling them farmside.
Forsythia
gets up a riot
in the outshifts.
From these I learn desire:
the prodigal purples,
the skylarking summer pinks
unclutch their buds.
Their kingdom comes.
Remember this need, though:
first and favorite flowering.
When spring bites sharp, it whispers,
too, in the hue
of the strengthening sun.
Originally published in Cascadia Rising Review, Issue 4.
Read another new springtime poem – with bonus economics reference (?)
Prefer spells? I write those too. Here’s a Spell for Blue Sky on the First Day of Spring.
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