Peach BlossomsBrynn Cook


The moon is set in a dusky lilac bed

Its kindly beams fading softly before the oncoming light

A tendril of the sun’s hair

Blows across the valley

Spilling gold-spun air across the bent backs of the laden dewy grass

And these peach blossoms

That I have waited for all year


Shell pink baby-fists


Reaching for this new warmth

They unfurl their petals

Silken sails in the colored waters of the sky

To catch this first

This ancient breeze

As the stamens poke tentatively into the cool, moist air

I watch them shiver in delight

Butterfly wings fluttering

As they suck in the nectar

Of the last ray of moonlight, the first touch of the sun

This first gasping breath

Beauty I will never have compels me

And I touch my soft pink lips to theirs

And kiss them

Each tremulous petal