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Click hereThe trees outside the house
Are lightly tinged with red.
It's doubly false:
Fall's both long since fled
And fully six months ahead.
You've cut willow branches
And put them in a vase upon the table,
The sweet buds are white and soft.
They don't know they're dead,
Nor that they signify renewal.
Hints of Spring here; what will soon follow will be a huge explosion of color before it all turns green.
But it's not meant to be a bad comment! There are many painful things going on with every transition. But I actually feel that the title to the poem is misleading (probably not by accident), as the poem goes on to describe the 'non -signs' of spring: The a-typical colour of leafes; the dead branches in the midst of renewal(can't some cut branches grow their own roots? Just curious). Good workout for the mind.