A new poem: Blossoms

Blossoms

Short-lived on stem and branch,
like honey on the tongue or
lover’s hand on neck and cheek –
almost absent in presence,
longing even in the holding.

So soon scattered to the floor, a May
snow-shower of perfumed petals –
wasteful abandon of white and pink,
the world taking even as it gives,
giving even as it takes.

Crab apple and lilac and magnolia,
beauty and longing in one instant,
harbingers of another impossible day
beyond ‘through a mirror dimly’.
This day and that day, gift.