the sky looked a little sad;
not the kind of sky that a good day
would choose, to unfold under
(if days – or people – could choose).
blossoms drifted from a nearby tree,
in saucy swoops,
and the setting brightened, a tinge –
as I meandered in shades of gray.
then: a white petal
fell to me, so softly,
I was able to hold out my hand
and pluck it off an enchanted breeze –
and just like that . . .
I was blown away.
photo: Blossoms in
Branches – W. Bourke
2013 Wendy Bourke