Apple Blossom Rites
Craig W. SteeleAnother late spring blizzard looms
as apple trees discard frail blooms,
festooning gloomy city lots
and frosting orchards’ green-caped plots.
For too-short moments I delight
in wading, ankle-deep, in white:
They lose their glory, overdone
and withering in hellish sun
while baking brown in oven-heat,
beseechingly, around my feet.
How cold the cut of Nature’s knife
that death’s required to ripen life.
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