On top of a sakura tree
A man lies on the rusty brown bench
Reading of the passing winter
that was coming to a closure.
He slimmers closer to the edge
feeling for an unsymmetrical bump.
Somewhat a depression
that elevated his head.
His head angled towards the sky
covered with small samplings
of yet to blossom cherry babies.
He senses the empty seat,
one right beside him,
missing the one who conquered his throbbing heart.
And solace,
as cold gust rises,
shelters him tight.
Memories like train racks
appear like a switch
there's no escape
only going forward.
He walks with resignation
facing the same old pain the year before.
Right towards the last stop,
he pauses towards a womanly figure.
His eyes slowly matches hers
as the figure slowly melts from her position.
He recalls
they have met once or twice
from way back a year or two.
And the gap closes,
she bulges her eyes
suppressing her fear
the man simply nods
it was him to blame.
They look at each other
finding themselves sitting side by side
on the newly made brown bench.
Its wet paint still visible
counting the minutes as each droplet falls.
He feels the unsymmetrical bump.
The woman is gone.
The paint is dry and old.
He has finished winter's end and with a blink
Spring has come
He gazes back up to see the melting snow
revealing grown cherry blossoms.
He lets out a sigh
and lays back down
shutting down his world and entering deep slumber.
