Cherry Blossoms

She was tall enough

to reach their boughs,

bending; her golden locks

flowing earthward,

each pale silken petal

a canvas to her eyes

and a gentle face to caress.

All seemed motionless 

when she stopped to paint

their blossoms,

as if heaven had held its breath

and no birds sang,

and not a breath stirred through the trees

when she lifted her fingers

towards their leaves

so that not one would fall

from its branch.

And in her eyes I can see

the spring that once filled mine

and remember the arms

where not a joy or love

would ever be lost or forgotten.

       by Joseph Ostapiuk