For me it’s about

The transformative power of poetry

Shaking off the winter grey

Grasping at words to name the unnameable

How through attempting to transcribe the soul one experiences revelation and necessary self-reflection

Yellow

Please, excuse my forwardness
I’m just wondering
how can one say yellow
and expect me to know what color is implied?

For you see…

There is the woody assertive fresh
yellow
of forsythia
That draws sunlight through itself
and waxes green.

There is the delicate nodding shy
yellow
of daffodils
that makes one imagine sweet girls
in frilled Easter dresses.

There is the familiar friendly tenacious
yellow
of dandelion
that plants itself firmly in the earth and transforms sunlight
into windswept wishes.

There is the speckled sunlight golden
yellow
of St. Johnswort
that hides within its flesh a mysterious
healing red balm.

There is the rich fuzzy nourishing
yellow
of mullein
That offers its pollen, a heavy laden
treasure on the legs of bees.

There is the calm sweet milky
yellow
of honeysuckle
that reveals peaceful affection
in generous curled back petals.

There is the majestic abundant
yellow
of sunflower
that draws vitality up its sturdy stalk
and showers strength down upon us
with its nodding head.

There is the arenaceous wafting
yellow
of goldenrod
that hangs in late summer haze
and reminds us to not take its slowly fading hue
for granted.

So when you say yellow
can you kindly be clear?
Of precisely which yellow do you speak?

©A. Cele