I dreamed of you in 1975
for the first time although
you were planted in my subconscious
long years before my birth
you line the Centennial parade of my dreams
your pinkish-white petals in clumpy puddles
gutted pillows
fluffy loveliness thrust
into loneliness, bidding adieu,
branching out
evicted
from the only shelter you’ve known
your entire sweet, audacious lives
cut short and still
as petals fall
you remain
graceful Japanese beauties
luxurious and soft
crinkling
lifeless, symbolic
friendship
once in full bloom
floating
like regret
beneath a cacophony of footfalls
along the West Potomac, gliding
drifting, some of your number
coming to rest
decaying
imperceptibly
bobbling atop shallow water
streaming along
the Tidal Basin
perhaps
in your way
resisting
the madness of March
______________
Copyright © 03/11/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
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Comments (3)
Gosh this was so poignantly beautiful! Magnificent poem!
Hannah's comment is spot on. Your poetry memorializes the temporal in a way that is almost as striking as an elegy for a life. My wife and I love the cherry blossoms in the tidal basin. But the logistics of visiting them is a pain even though we live just over an hour away.
You seem to have such a capacity for elegant sadness.