falling grace destroys
May eyes

November's thrill
of cold nights
made warm by
coupling
Is
distant view
past April
fawning. As I failed
while rampant sap
slamming into buds
forcing tender tips
into still harsh
winds.

my eyes shut tight
coward's that feared
tears made sharp, as
ice, would slice
your beauty from
perception.

single sensed you are not.

blossoms scent carried you away.
Flush of palest green
became a tender pastel of
pinks with deep set dark
honey centres.

They fell in May. I gathered and
as fool grabbed handfuls to fling
in air commanding they stay there.
again.

you. gravid. new grace. Swelled
rosy cheeked preparing to fall.