A nice poem (snippet)

I caught NPR's Writer's Almanac today and liked the poem that was read at the end, A Color of the Sky by Tony Hoagland. The last two stanzas especially appealed to me:

Outside the youth center, between the liquor store
and the police station,
a little dogwood tree is losing its mind;

overflowing with blossomfoam,
like a sudsy mug of beer;
like a bride ripping off her clothes,
dropping snow white petals to the ground in clouds,

so Nature's wastefulness seems quietly obscene.
It's been doing that all week:
making beauty,
and throwing it away,
and making more.