We linger with our wine
By open, screenless windows,
Lightning flashes in the distance.
A freshening breeze --
The crabapple tree sways,
Explodes in a shower of pink.
Damp petals swirl through the windows,
Flutter down to pattern the table before us.
Spring's discarded finery.
On Sunday morning, the goldfish
Swim beneath the flung confetti
Of Spring's passing parade.