A blossom tree
Budding growing
Willing knowing
Instinctively 
When warmth
Comes upon 
The breeze
Still sudden
Frosts sleet
Winds beat
Against tender
Shoots and leaves
Making parade
Confetti admire
For a day
Blown away
Too few fruit
For feathered
Friends greet
Instead reside
In cool shade
Till we meet
And bloom again
At winter's end