Right before March started I had posted about a poem I had crafted during a trip to D.C. years ago. For whatever reason I can’t stop thinking about the cherry blossoms. There is so much going on in Washington at the moment and it seems that cherry blossom season has sneaked in like a commando on special assignment. Forget about the crud on television today. Enjoy D.C. for what it must have looked like far before politics took over. Maybe this could be the start of a new series of poems about D.C. Maybe I should go visit Easy.
Report About Something Else
The news is on again
Adorning Donald’s ugly face
Melania’s airbrushed backside
And Cruz’s mopey mouth.
And all I keep thinking about is Washington, DC.
Not for its politics, as usual.
But for the wonderful, sweet, naïve cherry blossoms
Hanging like a toddler from a jungle gym
Secured to the branch like a childhood dream.
Soon they’ll let go
Giving way to gravity
Weighed down by policies and student loan debt.
Their precipitous fall to earth an exotic wintry dance
Only to gather like thieves in gray gutters
Swept up by those fortunate enough to have a broom.
For the next 4 days I’ll dream about being in DC.
But that’s it.
Anthony N. White is a writer currently living in Rochester, NY.
He can be heckled on Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat @Ruthieshusband
