spring was never here

Silent were the cherry blossoms

when they shed out the lifelessness

in petals pink and vibrant

against the Tokyo sun

loud was the welcome

for the employee rushing

to his bleak office building

need not seek warmth

in his coat against

the resting breeze

of a once frozen city

and the beggar may now

breathe the lively air

and the cheerful faces

momentarily forgetting

the winter inside his stomach

for others I can’t imagine

since the silence or the screams

can never tread like ships

over the blind mad sea

unaware of the rain of ice

or the fall of cherry blossoms

and the silence and the screams

can never cross the breeze

that passes over my window

as the colors of the sky

dances like paint melting in water

or like lovers melting in today’s sunset

who only read the four heartbeats

of the trees and bushes and rivers

but can see how

how the sky turns pink

and black and grey and blue

and milky and dirty and clear

over their lovestruck walks

and our tiring errands

that trail over the lives

we can always imagine we share

Cherry blossoms began the season of spring in Tokyo. Never really felt it here in the Philippines.

Poem No. 3 of this week’s theme, “writing summer.”


One thought on “spring was never here

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