Its dulled houses and tired business places
All grey and brown.
But today the trees that line its walk
Are floating in blossoms, white as clouds
Each bunch like a balloon, lifting the tree sunward.
This is radiance, and there is no answer
For this brief but adamant word
This scream, this shout, this choral song
This one day in spring
But to acknowledge beauty
Shocking and evanescent
Reminding us again
Of what we cannot name.