The meadow beckons
fresh arrival of morning treasure
spilled out in a bright pastel haze
where moss green breathes with ochre
and pinks and lavenders
nod their lazy heads
and touch the wind with fragrant wings.
warmth steals through soil and roots
and winds up stems and trunks
bursting in new shoots
and gasps of color
that spatter the air
in a riot of fresh hope
newly wrapped and delivered
to the waiting world.
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