A Feather and a Flower

Yesterday I saw a purple flower
Floating off a tree top
It landed near my feet, into
A puddle, colouring it mauve.

I waited, for no more flowers
On the laburnum tree
Only a mulberry mirror
Gazing back at me.

There was, though, a downy fluff
Mottled with specks of grey
Now soft and white, now bedraggled
Blotting the mauve away.

A squirrel ran up the tree trunk
Leaving me a quick look-see
And little purple paw-prints before
Disappearing in the leaves.

The puddle has dried, the flower on
The driveway now withered and dark
And there are no hues of life
On the rough, lined bark.