Sunday 27 April 2008

Spring

A woman walks past in a coral mac holding a bubble gum pink plastic bag.
The red rust of the cherry tree bark spills out from the myriad incisions, now old, gone puffy and soggy in the rain.
The blooms of plastery pink blossom above are almost too heavy for the tree. They bob in the wind like weighted candyfloss.
A thousand petals sway over each other and away, in front of the dusty red brick and mesmerise me.
Stuck to, trodden in to the pavement, blown into the gutter
they bruise, turning transparent, their pink opacity gone.
Wet and clumped together, dead and ugly.

Blossom pompoms.
Confections of laser-cut silvers.
Thousand layer perfection.
Precision perforation.
and milky pink.

A woman walks past in a coral mac holding a bubble gum pink plastic bag, wearing canary yellow jelly shoes and socks and taupe trousers.
The red rust of the cherry tree bark spills out from the myriad incisions, now old, gone puffy and soggy in the rain - sometimes dry though and then powdery, glinting bronze.
The blooms of plastery pink blossom above are almost too heavy for the tree. They bob in the wind like weighted candyfloss.
A thousand petals sway over each other and away, in front of the dusty red brick and mesmerise me.

1 comment:

katie said...

The girl in front of me in lectures today had a caterpillar in her hair.

Where is the cherry tree? xx