These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.
The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods --
Let them think twice before they use their powers
To blot out and drink up and sweep away
These flowery waters and these watery flowers
From snow that melted only yesterday.

 Despite the fact that the flowers will soon be gone, there is room for hope here. 
 Wallace says that “Death is the mother of beauty”; as the leaves blossom, they push out the flowers. Even if we think imagine the flowers as dead, there is new life/beauty that comes with the death. Eventually, the tree will wither and the cycle will begin again. 
 With a deeper understanding of the ecological process underway in this poem, the flowers do not generally die, but live underground through a root system and rebloom the next spring. Just because we can’t see the flowers doesn’t mean that they are gone; visibility is not necessary for existence.
Spring Pools