The blossoms fell on silent ground
They made no protest, not a sound
Indifferent crowds that could not see
The gifts that nature gave so free
I sat and gazed with saddened heart
Although a few remained
The dark grey skies overhead
Foretold the threat of rain
Soon they would be a memory
Of happy days in spring
When once had brightened many lives
And caused the birds to sing
But soon the leaves must turn to gold
And spring will long have gone
Maybe they will remember then
The blossoms of ninety-one
Brenda S. Warhurst
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© 2006 Brenda S. Warhurst