Lost Blossoms
A Poem
They only bloomed
last week
after a winter
of waiting.
But now they are falling.
A silent rain of spring
fluttering
descending.
Blossoms,
soundlessly landing,
a snow of pink
and white.
Like a wedding vale,
worn once and forgotten
to yellow in a bag
with mothballs.
Petals scatter in drifts
in the gutter
to rot,
a mulch too frail to use.
If winter lasted six more weeks
it would be better
than to see
lost blossoms
swept off the sidewalks
with a two-horse power leaf blower.
Adron
Thank you for visiting my blog and reading my prayer-poem.
I hope you were inspired by it and that it is a blessing on your day. A Poem
They only bloomed
last week
after a winter
of waiting.
But now they are falling.
A silent rain of spring
fluttering
descending.
Blossoms,
soundlessly landing,
a snow of pink
and white.
Like a wedding vale,
worn once and forgotten
to yellow in a bag
with mothballs.
Petals scatter in drifts
in the gutter
to rot,
a mulch too frail to use.
If winter lasted six more weeks
it would be better
than to see
lost blossoms
swept off the sidewalks
with a two-horse power leaf blower.
Adron
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(C) Adron Dozat
