Ephemera

 

                                                                       

In just a week’s time

The cherry blossoms disintegrate

As quickly as they bloomed

And Spring has not even started

 

In the empty cul-de-sac

There are no passers-by;

No eyes there are to mourn

The rite of the falling petals

 

So much beauty,

And no one to smile, or even sigh;

Was it worth it,

I ask the blushing blooms

 

As if in response,

A wild wind blows –

Even more petals chip away

In brooding melancholy

 

And I watch the bees

That think not, and move on

To flowers that still hang on

As a single petal comes and clings to me…

 

24^th August 2024