Blossoms
Pink petals falling
Gently from the sky,
Like snow upon blades
Of green is where they lie.
This dusting of delicate
Confetti-like curls
Rest in heaps of crimson
And dark cherry swirls.
As creamy white butterflies
They flutter to my feet,
Dancing in pirouettes,
Kissing as they meet.
Alas, the north wind
Blows cold one day
And this transient beauty
Is swept all away.
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