Colors

A rainbow of color, delicate pansy’s in a pot,

sit loudly on a front porch,

It’s April.

In a in a still chilly, brown and white northern city.

My eyes are drawn,

Held.

I stop walking.

Quickly, I scan the street, the houses, barren gardens,

No, there is nothing else,

Back.

A millisecond of fear,

My eyes may hurt from the shock,

So much color.

Like looking at the sun.

Vibrating now.

It feels like they are dancing.

Joy bursts forth,

Through my head,

Then, out of my face.

My eyes are drinking after a long thirst.

I am reminded,

This is the foreplay of spring.