The Breath of Pearls in April

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

It is as if departing April held

Late cherry blossoms, hesitating with

Them in reluctant arms.  She feels compelled

By threat of summer with it August myth.

She hopes the pink on cherry limbs will save

The arms that cling to blooms and thwart her fate,

Allow those arms to live as humans crave

Forever though their weakness knows the weight

Of death as petals know too well.  Not strange

To feel like this, she knows, but still she knows

The destiny of blooms and arms.  No change

Will come.  The menace summons warmth and glows.

  This month of loveliness with spring’s prime, air,

    Will wilt away despite the purest prayer.

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