Tree

Halfway down
an unfamiliar block
as I’m headed home to dinner,
I come upon a small dogwood in full flower.
I stop and take in the sight:
a profusion of soft blossoms
like sweet friends
happy to be together,
not needing anything more.
And here I am,
beat from a day that went all wrong,
standing on a broken sidewalk,
in a city of hard edges,
with a chemical bite to the evening air,
and even though this is a dogwood tree
and I’m a dog person,
it makes me feel like purring.