it’s fall now and the trees are becoming bare
and though i know i should live in the present
i can’t help but wish for spring

when i was a child i used to think
that the cherry blossom outside my window
would don a pretty pink dress when winter bled to spring

i’d call her vain but i’d still admire her
she paved the grass with soft pink flowers and tapped
at my window when wind visited in the night

we’ve moved to a different house now and
there aren’t any cherry blossom trees to look at anymore
i wonder what she thinks of the new residents

i hope they call her beautiful
even though her ego is large enough as it is
she needs reassurance every now and then

i hope they find the perfect niche that i did
a little place between her branches
where they can sit and stroke her arms

she’s no longer a part of my life
i’ll find another one to praise
(though none will be as perfect as her)