Dogwood’s Bloom

Posted: March 4, 2015 in poetry, Seasons
Tags: , ,

All the laboring force speeds to work
Both man and woman with plastic coffee cup in hand
In such a hurry to start the day
Not looking left or right or toward the sun
They come upon a man enjoying the morning
slowly admiring the roadside dogwood’s bloom
They blast their horn and get up real close
As destroyers of joy, without seeing or knowing
But they have important work to do.
How can the sight or smell of a bud or bloom compare?


  1. I’ve seen them….staring mindlessly on the morning commute, oblivious to the sunrise, to even the change in the smell of the season’s air, so locked up inside their traveling lives…and surviving on styrofoam sips and relying upon misplaced attention to those things they will come to understand in a few short years when they are burned out, maybe jaded more than they are now and too crippled to walk the rest of the road ahead…with no malice I offer them comfort, for it is then they will see the bloom; it will stare them down first, from the inside.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this poem! I feel sorry for the people who are always so in a rush and spend their lives indoors…work home stores, etc. They never stop to enjoy nature. Yes…”destroyers of joy”!
    I take at least 2 walks every day just to enjoy the sun, the breeze, the flowers, the birds, etc…then one night walk to commune with the moon and stars. I want to not only stop and smell the roses, but gaze at them and touch them.
    HUGS!!! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. They are the enemy …. the ”destroyers of joy”… but we have to feel sorry for them, they’ll never know the calm of the quiet walk, the joy of finding that lone blooming flower. They must be poor love makers, rushing everything they do.

    Liked by 1 person

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