Red

Don’t ask me its name

I like to sit
look out the window
maybe with a drink
and watch it come to life

it doesn’t last long
as the birds
play around in there
almost hidden

its lower branches are tangled
with the white flowerings
of the bushy tree below
and I can imagine
as the petals
join in a spring romance
blushing to
a pink

but don’t ask me its name
as that would ruin the illusion
so I don’t need to know it
to understand the romance
of it all

and besides
it’s not there long
but when it blooms
so do I