A new dVerse poets prompt of cherry blossoms
She smelled of cherry blossoms in our walks to a point of hanging in her wake
“Hey, what are you doing? Keep up”
“Sorry” I would say but still keeping a half step behind claiming whatever might mind for that halted step and scent carried my way in her draft
I know she only kept me for notice, as I am not a find, most surely not, but a body for Moms and Dads and Sisters and Brothers and Company to present to, temporarily, in overstuffed dining rooms at Spring get togethers until cherry blossoms fade
But, for just a moment, she was a cherry’s flower petals that petaled on me
Frankenberry's Attic 
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