Cherry blossoms
stew
in summer scent

Sweet and tingly

Catch just a peek
between your
fingertips

And yearn to see
its pink delight

And as if to flip a page
peel away delicate skin

Veined in etches
of stretching sun

Rubbing sand
between
calloused hands

Of the fine winged flap
expanded tip to tip
silent in its
fluid dances

Of moors
swarmed with life
un paused for breath

And too
of babes born
under spring

now travel
from the warm beat
of mother’s blood

Let fall the rosy petal
see it soar
to where it plucked
you follow

Pick a fruit
and nibble
fleshy
yet
unripe

But have no despair
for tartness

For alas
it was not destined to
be sweet

But instead sour and tart
to bring taste
to summer’s heat.