Cut from the tree
they die so soon
the apricot blossoms.
I want to beg Love
to take the shears
from my hands.
Every blossom a beauty,
so fragile, so full
of perfect potential.
But any grower knows
how essential it is
to prune the limbs,
that the secret
to the finest fruits
is not let all of them grow.
That ending twist is nice, the anti-growth solution (or is that the semi-growth).
I wonder about that 2nd line in the 4th stanza, “how essential it is”. It seems to echo the word “know” in a too-wordy way for me. I know it kills the triplets strategy, but the end reads stronger like this for me:
But any grower knows
to prune the limbs,
that the secret
to the finest fruits
is not let all of them grow.