Beneath the trees like drifts of snow,
the dropping cherry blossoms fall.
It makes me sad to them go.
Like fleeting dreams beyond recall.

Their images I have safely stored
imprinted in my memory
I conjure up from my record
and once again I clearly see.

The spring clothed trees all pink and white
before the fruit begins to form
and I can marvel at this sight.
One miracle I can perform

Predict the future from the past
extrapolate and then forecast.


(Poeticpiers/May 07)

ivor or ivor.e hogg

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/que-sera-sera-3/