"Outside the youth center, between the liquor store and the police station, a little dogwood tree is losing its mind; overflowing with blossom foam, 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."
— Tony Hoagland, American poet, born November 19, 1953