Sakura at Dawn

from Seismic_2000 at flickriver

I have missed the flowering
of the cherry tree,
falling petals
rain down on me;

a carpet of white
and mossy green.

I am soaring high
to the furthest trees
with the kissing bees
and the singing birds



watercolour by Tracy Cupitt

and swooping down
with the lowering sky
to brush the earth
with clouds of skirt.



- Shaista Tayabali, 2011

I dedicate this poem to my friend, and Dad's reader, Dr Dawn Owen, who is fighting the good fight in Addenbrooke's as I write. April is opaque outside her window, as 'they' are building extensions; a kaleidoscope of cranes and gravel and tunnels greet her eyes. Not a cherry petal in sight. Biopsy over, fever still, morphine for the pain... "I feel just like a lizard today," she said. "Keep opening and closing my eyes."