Writers' Group

Ephemera
Spring is the season for flowering bushes and trees.
The lilacs’ sweet, perfumed blossoms linger
for a bit,
But the blooms of apple trees - and cherries, too, I’m told-
Open and fall all too quickly.
In a brief burst of beauty, the flowering crab
Becomes a pink cloud that takes one’s breath away.
A few days and the flowers are gone
To be replaced by fruit that grows no larger than a marble
And can be found still littering the sidewalk
When next year’s blooms appear.
Why must that beauty be so fleeting?
Couldn’t it last a little longer?
Perhaps if it did, it might not be as precious,
Nor would it be a reminder of our own mortality.
- Kay Carlsen