Cherry blossoms
Toi Derricotte – 1941-
I went down to
mingle my breath
with the breath
of the cherry blossoms.
There were photographers:
Mothers arranging their
children against
gnarled old trees;
a couple, hugging,
asks a passerby
to snap them
like that,
so that their love
will always be caught
between two friendships:
ours & the friendship
of the cherry trees.
Oh Cherry,
why can’t my poems
be as beautiful?
A young woman in a fur-trimmed
coat sets a card table
with linens, candles,
a picnic basket & wine.
A father tips
a boy’s wheelchair back
so he can gaze
up at a branched
heaven.
All around us
the blossoms
flurry down
whispering,
Be patient
you have an ancient beauty.
Lovely poem. Thank you. I grew up where cherry blossom time was celebrated, and remember weeping cherries, dressed to the ground with blossoms and pink blossoms carpeting the green grass all around; and you could slip under and sit in the shade and scent, unseen by passers-by. I miss that land and those trees.