MARK

He leaned into the blossoms
It was a poppy blossom
Just after it bloomed
It fell away
He fell also
We mourned him
In the full thrust of spring
When everything blossoms
The cherry blossoms explode, wanting to be noticed
Too soon they fade away
We couldn’t help but notice
When He was stepping backwards.
He never fades away
We celebrate spring in the fullness of his name
Out loud
MARK
A casualty of a very short spring
With a harvest still of memories and many things left undone