Sometimes it amazes me that I get to see this.
That there’s a this to see, and not just any this,
but this this. And every time it happens it’s new,
even if I’m in the same place as the last time
and that was just a minute ago.
I get to see this.
It’s the middle of June and the leaves of the trees
are green and full and deep. From this particular one,
delicate blossoms cascade, simple and sweet,
and the romantic in me sees them as wedding flowers.
June, croon, honeymoon. I think that’s how it goes.
But here, as I wake from my dream, white flowers cascade.
And I get to see them.