Cherry blossoms are a gift to the human eye that unfortunately are fleeting in nature. They are the party guests that arrive only to give a "thanks for hosting" present, before carrying on with their night's plans. This poem celebrates their beauty.
Spring Volcano
For some there is no budding -
No time for growth.
They are bare one week,
and glistening in celebration the next.
From underneath the sky is a wavering pink.
And in the wind the butterfly pedals
flee the branch, ebbing onto the grass;
For the cherry blossom is the gentle spring volcano.
Both images were self-photographed in Washington, D.C., 2017.
