An early peak of cherry blossoms in Washington DC this year, and who came to see it? Some did, risking their own health (and that of others’), to witness the blooms.

The rest of us see only the photos. Is that enough?

Outside my window, a blanket of gray covers the sky. The maples and oaks in the neighborhood have yet to bloom. A few walkers and the mail carrier venture down the street. It’s so easy to sigh and dwell on missed opportunities, and the consequences of social isolation. It’s so easy to perceive no end in sight, and to despair.

But whether I see them in person or through a website, I see cherry blossoms. Another sign of passage from death to life. Another foretaste of Easter, only eight days away.

Corona will pass, even as cherry blossoms fade. Life finds a way.

So will we.

petals float

in another

spring breeze

the ripening

of fruit to come

for 27th March 2020 prompt: Gerry Muse #200 (occasional tanka prose)

my own #haikai challenge

UPDATE: and for dVerse Poets’ Poetics — Now I can see (pubtended by Mish)