Flowering cherries

Boughs heavy with blossoms hold still in the breezeless air. Sheltering those who pause for a fragrant breath, they hold the sun in their pockets of pink and white, cupped by the bluest of skies.

A man with an open gaze, in the driver’s seat of a car parked nearby, calls out that I’m the eighth person who has stopped by the tree. “What gives?” he says. “I’m new to the city.”

“The blooms are early,” I say. “The year’s warmth has already teased their curls from fist to open palms. The city’s residents are in their thrall. A cherry blossom festival takes place and thousands celebrate the return of spring.”

He nods, accepting this fate.

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