Yellow Brushes

Deepen Oaks
Surround the somber pond
Hunched and twisted,
Naked from all life
Now tolerantly waiting
Having an awareness of a brighter time
A time of new beginnings
When they were virgin and vivid
Stimulating a time to romp
Introducing an airy tickle
To ones soul Not the stillness
The nipping stab of darkness
Cool one's heels,
Profoundly breathe in and out
Time will be this waiting game
Its return will come
The time
A moment of innocence
Not long ago
An appearance
In a photograph
When the forsythia thrives