A day of cherry blossoms
hanging fragile in spring sunshine,
a day before ice cream trucks,
before the crack of ball against bat,
before sun bakes the grass brown.
A day when a damp wind
sent winter shivers.
A day of mothers, children,
and beaming fathers watching
fish in a river of pink petals.
Copyright 2018 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: I hope if you celebrated Mother’s Day, it was as delightful as mine. Despite a virus, I wandered in a cherry blossom wind by the Charles River. Although, afterwards I needed a nap, and today my head is pounding. But the memory is still sweet.