to the pink petalled canopy
that lines my street every birthday.
This year it’s hard not to feel
the ache in the break of the blooming,
marking the space left behind
by a marvelously messy cherry blossom tree.
I used to make wishes
under the shower of dancing petals.
Today, I make promises
to continue the dancing,
I used to make wishes
under the shower of dancing petals.
Today, I make promises
to continue the dancing,
and hold back none of my blooming,
even knowing
that some spaces can never really be filled,
just remembered.
that some spaces can never really be filled,
just remembered.
The view from one end of my street at this time of year.
It really looks perfect right around my birthday.
Song Choice: The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance
Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, Your Landscape.
