I remember the first Cherry blossoms at Branch Brook Park, between Newark and Bellville, NJ. The lines of trees along the walking paths and roads, teeming with cascades of white and pink. Grove upon grove of lush blossoms, an effervescence to intoxicate poets.
Will that be my lost Rebecca? Or do I dare hope in whatever the Cherry blossoms closer to our new home have to offer?
worm moon
the cherry tree next door
begins to bud
I’m pubtending dVerse Poets’ Haibun Monday, where we write about the first Cherry Blossoms (hatsu hana).
The pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
Leave a reply to The Sicilian Storyteller Cancel reply