Fleeting
Since the failed azalea was removed
there’s a vacancy beneath the dogwood
that grows less each day
as runners of cotoneaster spread,
cover over and fill in
the subtle indentation
where not so long ago
I saw crimson blossoms open
to the rays of sun—
life too greedy for life
to hesitate
except for this pair of tiny wings
hovering
in the gap
of memory.
