The cherry blossoms return each spring
Soft pink flowers burst forth from the branches of the schoolyard trees
Gifts from the Japanese people, we are told
Sister arbor to the Capitol’s grove
How short their lives
Blooms soon to drift downward to their deaths
Soft transparent membranes, fan shaped
More white than rose
We wait for them each year
Look upwards to the buds
Struggling to appear
Reminding us that we, too will grow
Present our showy natures, then fade as we leave childhood behind.
Elaine Rosenberg Miller is an attorney living in West Palm Beach, FL. Her essays, memoirs, poems and short stories have appeared in Allgenerations, Brooklyn Voice, Jewish Magazine, Lit Up Literary Review, Miranda Literary Magazine, Museum of Family History, The Binnacle (University of Maine at Machias) Cartier Street Review, The Forward, The Writing Room Literary Anthology, Up The Staircase Review, Wilderness House Literary Review, Women And The Holocaust and Women In Judaism: A Multidisciplinary Journal (University of Toronto).