The dilemma of April

The tree is bleeding:

petal droplets

decorate the path

demonstrating the gravity

of passing spring.

Do I walk around them

in reverence of the bereft

silent and deep in thought ?

Do I scatter them

the discard of my shoes

liberating them with a kick,

or do I tread them into the path

with the weight

of my own passing ?

The dilemma of April !