A Cherry Tree
Vibrant crystals of white snow,
Waltzing in the wake of the chilly breeze,
Fluttering back and forth, right and left,
Towards the reaching hands of a lone cherry tree
The cherry tree, a soldier in a worn, barren land,
A survivor of the most fearsome winds,
The most daunting rains, the most playful children,
But its soul lingers
At the hands of the worst of winter.
Branches lie naked, trunk sits stiff,
Roots rest hungry, leaves remain absent.
In a shower of snowflakes,
The cherry tree regains its beauty.
The snow adorns the tip
Of the slender, wooden arms
With twinkling lights
And sprinkles the knarled fingers
With icy confetti.
The chilly wind crowns its head
With a glittery veil
And the snow blankets the lonely roots
And embraces them in a cool, friendly kiss.
Each snowflake reflects the soothing light
Of the sun,
Basking the cherry tree in a golden glow,
Comforting the cherry tree,
And making it beautiful.
© Stanley Zhao