cherry

the cherry trees

weep

in pink.

the concrete

cracks

in jagged edges.

tears dissolve

the barren spaces

like acid.

where there was nothing

there is life.

the kind of life

that holds a thorn

in the barren graveyards

between dying flowers.

the kind of life

that cannot be forgotten

with the wind.

the one you miss

(secretly)

in the morning

when the sun shines

and the birds chirp

and there is coffee.

cherry trees that do not cry

wither and die

like hearts unwatered.

slabs of concrete

sink into oblivion

if they do not grind

their stubborn teeth.

i step on pink petals

and they have tears

unlike me.