When the spring rains come, the litter of magnolia petals and crab apple blossoms somehow reminds me of the Ezra Pound poem, “In a Station of the Metro”:
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough.
That image! Like a painting, a flash of insight, a glimpse of the eternal.
Dog paths strewn with fallen pink crab apple blossoms (beneath wet, black boughs)
