in which a cherry blossom waits

a cyclist pauses before colour

as bulbs pop out on the path,

a verge of spring: the leaves

of artichoke spread serrated

silver, salivias are dabbed

with a red born in the belly

of the sun.

 

i hover in the patch as your

birthday nears, as  moon

glances in, as the equinox

strains to stretch days into

night, as a cherry blossom

waits, as the cyclist moves on

as I become the bystander

 

Copyrighted by the author

 

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