After the Blossoms Fall

After the Blossoms Fall

 

I believe that God loves me in an absurdly special way;

And since I am so loved, I am occasionally exempted

From abiding by the laws of physics, even biology.

 

I too often presume a divine commitment

To the happy well-being of my delusions

And the triumph of my quixotic desires.

Indeed, I regularly confuse Providence

With the goals of a personal universe.

 

So, I grabbed my camera and headed to the waterfront

Where all the azaleas grow along River Street,

Even though I had no idea if those trees

Were still in the midst of first blossom

 

They were a few days ago, so why not today?

 

But that day, the sun had not been made to stand still.

The blossoms had already fallen, and I ended up

Chatting with an angry tour boat captain

Who said he was done hauling dopes

Around Bald Head for mere nickels

And had no interest in azaleas

Or the hopes of another.

 

He was a very bitter guy who seemed on the verge

Of giving up on things altogether �" Forever.

 

And I think he was tempted

To kick me in the balls just for noticing that.

He also hated his fat, lazy, “c**k-eyed, partner,”

Which I took as a sign and the inspiration for this poem.