By Thomas Page

 

Potomac Waters

Reflecting the Washington

Marbled-white skyline.

Calendared April,
Waxing hibernating. 
Heat now rising from

The ground, awakens
Rosy-hued gifts from Japan
‘Bout a century

Ago. See how the
Washingtonian escapes
Political plight

To smell faintly sweet
Cherry blossoms and to crown
Themselves new Floras,

Kings and Queens of trees
Belonging to everyone
In Whitman’s model.

Can a fleeting flow’r
Be the foundation of such
Evermore celebrations

Of perennial,
Unalienable,
And undoubtedly

Moments of vernal
Joy found eastward of its source
Made in a peacetime?  

Sakura trees which
Beleaguer the banks of the
Potomac wading

Among monuments
Of storied people and times
Of proving heroes

In the face of so
Much cowardly evil that
Ranks of citizens

Had to realign
The fault in vicious men’s stars
With warring counters.

The harmony of
Water, stone, dirt, and wood mixed
In fabricated

Sense of nature—A
Desire to find
Tranquility.  

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