The forsythia

The forsythia




The forsythia has busted out today
bushy spots of yellow
overnight, left and right.

A harbinger of spring

An army of tiny, yellow trumpets
shout out about the worn out
winter landscape

Heralding winter’s end

I remember wild bundles of forsythia
along the driveway
welcoming us home

With a wave of golden flowers

I remember planting forsythia
Along another driveway
Saying goodbye

With a heart full of hope

She reached for me today

She reached for me today

She reached for me today.
The soft black curls
The chubby cheeks
The sober eyes.
She paused, and
stretched her little hands for me.

Into my arms
she fell.
Soft and tubby,
Round and snugly,
Curls brushing my chin
All safely tucked in.

Alert from day one.
She has watched
So intensely.
Little observer
She gazed, and
Kept her secrets to herself.

Today I passed the bar
Met the test
And measured up
I was accepted.
Her little self
Reached out for me today.