The Cherry Tree
Hard snow grains
sugarcoat the campus lawn,
sting my cheeks and fog my glasses.
It's a white-out world
of soaked jeans and streaming eyes,
clumping Roots boots
plowing up the hill.
Now I see it –
a cherry tree
shivering with her roots in the snow.
Brittle golden leaves, still on the branches,
rattle off their rhythm of defiance.
I've seen that tree in April, showing off
her ruffled pink sundress of blossoms.
"Hang in there," I tell her,
"Only two months to go."