Picture

​Pillows of willows rolling in meadows,
Marking the course of a singular creek;
Blushing the landscape with plumes of sienna,
Prelude to springtime and greenery most chic.

Subtle the colors, as just now awakening,
Wispy the leaves on tentative stems;
Barely surpassing their spectral origins,
Buds sitting quietly like genies and gems.

Strangely low key is this vital transition,
Muted the scene in a year-long play;
Moment of poignancy vested with purpose,
On its way a season to sway.