Petals have fallen
in shear disarray,
lay 'neath white blankets
(though they decay)
of snow. They shalln't peek
till sunshine kisses
on earth's belly--shines.

Swiftly life crumbles ...
though not by their choice ...
their only reason
(t'was the season)
crunching, home beckons.
No one can see, smell,
their souls liberating.

Petals are rising--
blissful in the sun.
Spring, summer and fall
(as I recall)
dare dreaming, wonder
what winter is like ...
what's 'cold misery'?

Between hard freezes
the buds peer, poke through,
then shiver in fright
(all through the night)
till tasting soft flakes
of pristine, white snow ...
that lull them to peace.