February Births a Violent Storm

Buttercups blossom and sweetly sigh
then sway, leaning gently with the wind.
Dogwood petals spiral down in ceremony
to meet their abrupt ends in purple puddles.
Dusk deceives us with a crimson crime,
clouds bleed acrylic from the horizon and stain
the edges of darkening tree branches,
as our eyes persuade us into believing
that the season is at last leaving
a young storm in February is breathing.