I am delicate satin between thumb and finger.
In the intricate dance of Spring, I am the forerunner.
We swirl in unison, my family and I,
Mother waves goodbye in the breeze that carries us.
We shower like confetti, shoot like sparks,
leaving a scattering of pink snow in our wake.
But soon our song ends. I fall amongst the green,
and lie by yellow flowers, to be trampled to brown.