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There is nothing like watching the
Sakura fall onto the shallow cobbles –
Or the bamboo grass turning white.
As those cherry blossoms are trampled
By the horses tread and cart:
The ever-falling rain will begin –
And the tears are carried.
Dark and grey the clouds will turn –
And the cicadas will no longer churn.
The start of a new day.
Pink Sakura obscure the floors –
Amongst the healthy bamboo grass.

© John Ashleigh 2011-2012

 

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