Spring's Passing Parade

 Saturday evening...We linger with our wineBy open, screenless windows,  Lightning flashes in the distance. A freshening breeze -- The crabapple tree sways,Explodes in a shower of pink. Damp petals swirl through the windows,Flutter down to pattern the table before us.Spring's discarded finery.  On Sunday morning, the goldfish Swim beneath the flung confettiOf Spring's passing parade.