Spring has arrived in a bright riot of blossoms, bursting out of branches in splashes of pink and yellow and white, delighting the bees. Yesterday the wind picked up petals and tossed them in celebration all across bare yards and roadways. I’ve had lines of this poem running through my head.

A Color of the Sky (excerpt)

by Tony Hoagland

Outside the youth center, between the liquor store   

and the police station,

a little dogwood tree is losing its mind;

 

overflowing with blossomfoam,   

like a sudsy mug of beer;

like a bride ripping off her clothes,

 

dropping snow white petals to the ground in clouds,

 

so Nature’s wastefulness seems quietly obscene.   

It’s been doing that all week:

making beauty,

and throwing it away,

and making more.

(Read the full poem here)