Green and yellow
The tender green of buds, spring's charge
to reach the sun, fresh, hopeful, untried
like an easy life
an idyll of innocence and intend,
is everywhere I turn.
It colors the promise of beginnings,
tempers the blues of the spectrum,
its own headiness,
a delirium of love, lends sparkle
to an ordinary day, same among myriad others,
what a splendid future to be had, for certain!
The vivid yellow of dandelions,
unruly, undesired, prolific in their advances
like addictions or at least bad habits,
on their way to set bitter roots and puffball heads
casts a shade somber, contrast
to them green buds.
Portraits of chances forfeited, of roads not taken,
or of those you got stuck on forever
of blooms discarded, without fruit
and of acid preservation too,
wishes undelivered yet Grace reckoned them saved and absolved
