The pink and white petals of the blossoming trees
float through the air, dancing on the breeze.
The birds have returned, composing their song.
The sunset can wait; the evenings grow long.
The daffodils are wilting, but the tulips are strong.
Lilacs and peonies will be the next to come along.
I deeply inhale the gentle floral fragrance in the air.
I want to capture it, grasp it in my hand; its brevity is unfair.