Plum Tree

    Snowy blooms open on my plum tree
    and rustle like a maiden’s organza gown,
    softly swishing in the breeze.
    Dainty petals contrast with red leaves,
    like elegant love-notes, bundled and
    loosely tied with crimson ribbons.
    West wind’s graceful fingers
    touch the blossoms on each branch
    and release them, at random,
    to tread the skies on silent toes.
    As their tales are read by
    passing springtime clouds,
    all heaven listens, enthralled.
    The highest boughs carry
    the sweetest words
    and tell the saddest stories.