Spring dust
In a corner, quietly stands a cherry blossom tree With fuchsia blossoms slowly unfurling Above the waves of passengers huddling in line for the bus, never ready For a moment of repose. A flicker of the sea breeze Comes, undulating the cumulous pink clouds That stretch far away to the snow-capped mountains. Slowly I tread on the carpet of green grass, fearing that I may trample the delicate pink petals underneath On my way home. My sister and I call them specks of spring dust, so dazzling but fleeting, as they could withstand only a few days of rain. Then the colours blemish, the petals floating away below the leaden skies. With spring comes jubilation, but also a wisp of nostalgia. I heard of a movie long ago About two soulmates trying to reunite As they crisscross the globe, at the speed of cherry blossom petals: 5cm/s. When I first learned this, my science-cogged brain Could not fathom that the speed of cherry blossom petals Can be quantitate...