Astringent

As the cherries blossom
And the apple trees,
And the nightingale unsleeps,
The chatter of gulls grows more early
And the cats yowl higher in branches,
My heart wonders
Where you’ve gone
Why
The bitter fragrance of the bird-cherries
Brings me cold,
Unbreakable from my memory,
And why I long
For the black, tart berries
To put in my sourdough bread.
I disagree with the blackbird
When he announces posterity,
Singing of how the life goes on
As the petals make
Pink-coloured drifts
Of what is not snow.

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