While wading through the afternoon,
An afternoon of orange and quiet,
I passed a tree engulfed in white blooms,
Their purity stark against the textured green that cradled them.
Beautifully, enticingly fragrant—
Their slowly wilting petals alighting their branched vessel,
Blanketing the grass in a Florida winter’s snow.

I loved the tree,
Became submerged in my own infatuation,
And as I watched its silky snowfall grace the shivering earth,
I knew that I had always loved it,
And that it had always loved me.