Cherry Blossom Girl
We have a cherry tree in the front garden. I always knew I would have a cherry tree when we moved here, it was one of the first things we planted. I love the luxuriant pink blossoms and the final rain of confetti early in May. It was under a cherry blossom tree that your father and I first got together, where we first held hands all those years ago in St Stephens Green.
Our cherry blossom bloomed this year as usual, lots of beautiful, delicate petals and then in just a few short days they were gone. The tree is still there but devoid of all its splendour.
That was you. You came in a shower of pink blossoms, the first girl after four boys. We were showered in pink cards, pink toys, pink clothes, most of which you never got to wear, you were so tiny. And then, in a matter of minutes, with no warning at all you were gone.
And all we are left with is our blossomless tree.
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