Cherry Blossom

She walked the path beneath the cherry trees,
trees like pink snow and candy floss clouds bursting.
A tall thin woman, and with sea-dark hair,
she stretched her hand and touched the lowest bough
shaking it gently.

Our paths about to cross, I sought a trite remark,
some passing phrase to do with trees and beauty,
pale petals floated downwards and her gaze
watched them descend and drift.
She raised her face, her eyes were full of tears.
I hastened on.

I could not help but wonder what had passed
beneath those cherry trees, what fallen dream
had left her weeping.

By the next day, a driving wind and rain
had left the fallen petals crushed and brown,
a damp rug coiled around my heavy feet.

They clung to the edges of my shoes
like an old memory to the fringes of the mind.


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