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The Gray Sky Weeps Pink Blossoms

Betsy Holleman Burke

We dreamed of these flowers this hard winter

wondered if they would return again.

Then, a miracle. They burst forth lush,

more beautiful than ever, the neighbors say.


First the swelling on a woody branch,

then a touch of blush, tiny lime green leaves,

fat buds with pink points become bright flowers

overnight. An elegant quilt, cotton candy color.


Each flower, five rounded petals, a bristly center

of tiny brushes painting the sky. The gnarled trunks,

reminiscent of Cambodian temple trees, sprout

bouquets spiraling upward from every crevice.


Graceful boughs snake across lawns, survive rot,

wind, blizzards. They stand guard over our homes,

fill our windows with beauty. Time stands still

as we move outside, shake off the ache of winter,


walk under pink canopies, ride bikes, sell lemonade,

creep in traffic, wallow in this gift of nature, knowing

we have only a short time to appreciate and enjoy.

We pray for cool weather, instead feel summer heat.


Petals swirl around, create a spring snow storm.

The fallen blossoms color the grass, the streets

a vivid rose, confetti for children to toss over

one another, practice for a spring wedding.

Kenwood, 2018


Cherry Blossoms In Kenwood

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