Pity the guts of the crocus,
smashed to the ground by wet snow,
ruined before bees could arrive.
Do not take it lightly, this small death,
as the blue sky looks on
Today’s prompt at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads was to write a poem of 100 words or less, incorporating a group of four words (with a few groups to choose from). I chose pity, guts, crocus, and blue.