Birth of Yellow
by Rowena Zuercher
Yellow is the first to bleed into the clusters of green
that canopy the sidewalks, tidy lawns, and porch stoops
and the edges of golden harvest fields are ribboned with
mullein, yarrow, and dandelion that feed shy rabbits and curious deer.
When the last puckered buds of chamomile have opened and the dead
have fallen into the nest of rooted thistles below,
brittle herbs are pressed into dark tincture bottles
that line the old shelves of a dirt cellar
dank with the musty odor of soil that
births life, consumes life,
turns over and erodes.
The wind sighs about change and then kisses the
palms filled with feverfew and calendula
as the prickle of sweat between shoulder blades
becomes the creek bed and the valley
that bows between ridges of the earth browning from green to decay,
still bathing in the molten gold of an afternoon sun.
Rowena Zuercher has a perpetually curious spirit, and she channels her passion for learning into writing, traveling, and discovering new hobbies.
One thought on “Rowena Zuercher: Birth of Yellow”
You have splendidly spelled out the joy of my favorite color. Thank you, Rowena.