Seasons

Seasons are like Bridges we walk
Across as they sway.
It's time of the cherry blossoms
Smell of rot like a pile of compost.
But, after you walk across
the bridge and finish your journey,
you don't need to think about the blossoms.
They will smell sweeter, 
as though the blossoms had never rotted.
You walk towards better things
like life, hope, and opportunity.
They are one step away.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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Xiang Avatar
March 29, 2024 at 11:45 PM
I never thought of seasons as bridges till now. Memories of cherry blossoms grow sweeter with each bridge we cross. Thank you.
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