A color of the sky

Outside the youth center, between the liquor store

and the police station,

a little dogwood tree is losing its mind;



overflowing with blossomfoam,

like a sudsy mug of beer;

like a bride ripping off her clothes,



dropping snow white petals to the ground in clouds,



so Nature's wastefulness seems quietly obscene.

It's been doing that all week:

making beauty,

and throwing it away,

and making more.