Sunday Morning

It’s spring, and everything looks frail;
the sky is baby blue, and the just-unfurling leaves…
a little dogwood tree is losing its mind;
overflowing with blossomfoam…
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.

Tony Hoagland from A Color of the Sky in What Narcissism Means to Me


Notes – Photo: Dogwood in Blossom by David Castenson. Poem: Thank you Whiskey River

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