spring poem
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There’s a lilac tree nearby. I smell it on the wind that blows Softly- Enough to carry a scent But not enough to make the windchimes Sing with the sparrows and the chickadees. Or maybe it’s the jasmine That lingers on my skin and Evaporates Into the setting sun. Twilight is fleeting and snow is
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The storm covered much of the country- a last cry of clinging winter. Snow lighted on half-bloomed buds and winds shook the branches of the cherry tree until soft petals and snowflakes danced together toward the ground.
Bringing Mae Flowers 