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.