Commence the dance of bloom and blossom,
a spring in every step.
The fall of yesteryear forgotten,
those orange tears were laid to rest
where rotting memories shall reside;
the compost of the mind.
I long for days I can’t remember,
when fair was fair and fair the weather.
But now the trees stand nakedly
and wilting to their tapered dream.
Come blossom dance, help me forget,
with Spring in every step.