Memory of Spring

[scotopotomas]

In vast plains,
where wildflowers thrived,
for a brief season,
Nothing now grows.

That luxuriant spring of color,
So unexpectedly vibrant,
With the mountains rising all around,
In their funeral display.

In the light breezes I remember,
the sound of swaying petals,
and the expectation of dusk.

Every morning brought,
An ephemeral fog,
Blurring edges, but beneath
the softly glinting dew collected.

And now the thunderous storms have passed,
Their cloudburst at an end.
And pale faceless heat begins.
The summer's antiseptic balm.

But some later day,
In the chaos of crashing leaves,
I may recall,
That softly glinting dew.