Vasisth K.

The cold winter wind beats against the

Lonely cherry blossom tree.

Which once stood tall with

Bright pink flowers.

But now its colors drained

Its branches sagging

With the weight of the snow,

And frozen solid in its place.

Far off in the distance,

Two lampposts shine through

The thick forest of

Frozen dead trees and

On to the footprints of

A lonely early morning jogger.