Plum Blosson Magic

The child first stirred
Within me
In the spring,
When wild plum trees
Were blossoming.
I think they cast a spell
On him;
For now, though grown
To man’s estate,
Each spring he stands
Beside the pasture gate,
Staring into the thicket
Down the land,
As though he hears
A distant calling….
And weeps to see
White petals falling!

ST. ANTHONY MESSENGER