at the cherry blossom tree
delivered from Japan,
you are home with me.
When I feel discomfort,
likes beads of sweat along my neck,
I’ll recall the bluejay at home
and the way it used to peck.
If I could fall into a rhythm
just as the bird has in my tree,
who’s to say the rhythm
could not fall straight into me?
But who am I to say,
when I feel a tightness in my neck,
the pain isn’t from miming the bluejay
and the way it used to peck?