Sunday night, I lie
in bed,
tomorrow’s work
will come too soon.
Saturday, I basked
in warm sun.
Tonight, the wind whips round the eaves.
Though almost
April,
cherry blossoms have not yet formed.
cherry blossoms have not yet formed.
Spring seems to be elusive.
I think of a day
two springs ago,
hold the memory
tight lest it blow away.
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