|
misstree
|
i don't remember the word
that a boy once taught me,
but it was japanese, and it
meant, roughly, the beauty of
moments of cherry blossoms falling,
a single moment, crystalline,
the amplification of transience
upon the perfection and delicacy
of a moment that is forever
but only so very briefly.
i treasure the word i have lost
because the concept is always close
and makes my chest swell an extra inch
when i am swept up.
|
050822
|
