I saw your magnificent blooms
sprawling as only magnolias can do,
soaking in the sun’s warmth under a balmy blue sky.

Caught by a sudden springtime squall,
your drooping petals skittered to the ground,
blown away like loose debris across a windy beach.

Growing up on the Pacific northwest coastline,
I was taught to never turn my back on the ocean,
lest I be caught off guard by a fast-moving sneaker wave.

My dear magnolia, it appears you would benefit
from a similar vigilance. Never, never turn your back 
on April.

NaPoWriMo, Day Five