When I was a girl, one of the first indications of spring
were the arrangements of forsythia and pussy-willow
my elementary school teachers brought into the class room.
Now, so many years later it is the first memory
I recall when I look outside my window
to see the forsythia in bloom.
It could still be cold, but the sight of the bright
yellow bush is sunlight itself,
captured in a small yellow flower.
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