Magnolia trees burst like slow fireworks
Colouring our garden sky
Their sepals and petals scatter in the spring winds,
Clattering fleshily on the roof of the deck,
Rustling along the timber like sheaves of paper,
Like old bureaucracies no longer relevant.
Dew gathers, glistens, and drips
Molten silver in the early sun.
The flocks of flowers perch in gratuitous pink splendor
On dancing slender branches
Delicate dancing between the wind leading
And the tree’s own tension returning
Elastic circles, organic oscillations.
The pale, near-white core is cloaked in rich ribena
A magenta flurry that gathers all eyes in sight.
Little spring leaves, lime green and striving
Pepper the pink cloud in relative obscurity
Once noticed, they blaze!
And blaze they will still,
Once all the wild expenditure of colour
And nectar feasting has passed
And composted.
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Anonymous submission, 2022