White Blossom

White blossom,white hail,

Bike and I beneath the tree-

Ping, ping, on the bell.

White versus White

White as white the petals
cool against my cheek.

Hard and white the hailstones,
sharp needles on my skin.

Dashed are the petals,
soft and white in the mud.

Dashed by the hailstones
that scattered their tattered silk.

Hard and strong the hailstones;
Strong and soft the blossom.

Soon melted and gone the ice
and blown in a heap the blossom.

Phyllis King