April Spring Poem Writing Competition Finalist!

A bellow of thunder that
Drops to temperatures past
As pearls rain and dance on the ground.
A warm balm of gold
Heats my core,
Wrestling with the
Anguished numb hopeful
Buds sprouting from branches
That curl upon my limbs.
Fleeting, masked by stationary clouds
And cotton dandelions.
Fleeting is the taste of a
Spring of morning glories,
And you,
My spring.