I remember it first, before circumstance,
mother, house or sky–the unexpected
brilliance burned to the back of retinas.
Baby ducks in a shallow pan beside
the neighbor’s back steps. Yellow.
It was likely Easter, and I was learning
how all things wake in spring, screaming.
Not with the washed-out color of cowardice
or pale jaundice but the popping color
that alters perception, awakes senses
dulled by the brown of bare branches
and dirt. Brilliant daffodil heads,
forsythia branches waving along the highway.
Even this morning, waking us.

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Image: “And It Was All…” from The Dollar Store Estate Sale Collection