Upon a day in early May,
I ponder and I meditate,
On the apple buds nestled in the trees
Surrounded by the birds and bees,
And sway so gracefully in the breeze.
Soon those baby buds will open.
A word unspoken
Pushes outward like a breath
From the center of the bud,
That intimate depth.
Bursting forth into the world,
Their light fragrance floats and twirls and swirls.
Their cotton candy color
And their ever-so-soft sound
Though will fly tomorrow in the breeze,
Their precious memory lives within the trees.
Vivian Stolz is a 16-year-old home-schooled Lake City resident. She enjoys writing, drawing, as well as playing cello and piano. The Post Bulletin publishes poetry by local and area writers every Monday. Send poems to Meredith Williams at email@example.com.