April Gold

Long before the first robin appears,
the yellow-green tips on the willows
curtsy toward the mighty oak
that crackles in frozen response.

Daffodils shoot out of their winter’s beds,
flowers ranging from ashen to orange
demanding every bit of sunshine,
fearless of the March winds
that cut to the very edge.  

Forsythias join the crowd, yellow
and dappled like a measuring stick
along their softened brown branches,
miniatures clustered along the path.

Most enduring are the dandelions,
a true wild flower of gold and green,
that carpet fields and highways
for miles at a stretch
waiting for two and three-year olds
that harvest bouquets for Mommy,
despite how quickly they wilt.