Restoration
I knew a cherry tree when I was young.
Every spring, its perfumed flowers said love
Would find me and would hold my eager heart.
I slept with my window open. I dreamed.
By day, I played in the gardens lost to time
Where irises and myrtle claimed new life
By pushing back blankets of dried oak leaves
To offer their purple blossoms to the sun.
Today, I discovered two cherry trees
Bearing yellow leaves in mid November
As I removed crimson burning bushes
That would claim the cherries’ light and their souls.
Restoring the landscape, I find deep peace
Among woodland friends, their songs, in the trees.
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