Beneath the trees like drifts of snow, <br />the dropping cherry blossoms fall. <br />It makes me sad to them go. <br />Like fleeting dreams beyond recall. <br /> <br />Their images I have safely stored <br />imprinted in my memory <br />I conjure up from my record <br />and once again I clearly see. <br /> <br />The spring clothed trees all pink and white <br />before the fruit begins to form <br />and I can marvel at this sight. <br />One miracle I can perform <br /> <br />Predict the future from the past <br />extrapolate and then forecast. <br /> <br /> <br />(Poeticpiers/May 07)<br /><br />ivor or ivor.e hogg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/que-sera-sera-3/
