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Dysfunctional Cherries
The lovely trees are in full bloom
as the humans come in their full best attire.
Staring up at the cherries,
they admire their deep red fire.
Some redder than others.
Some mixed with colors of a brother.
Reaching out.
Yearning to be chosen.
The humans pluck some.
At times, discarding the other half
and keeping the "better" one.
How can it be?
They can make "reason" for what they see,
yet cannot take whatever there is to be.
The discarded cherries lay on the ground
as if they are children who lost their tiny, developing crown.
The leaves of the cherry trees sigh.
Drooping down
like a fresh frown.
Just like everything,
there will often be variation.
So many "defective" cherries strewn all over the floor.
Cherries only wanted for their color of amour
while the rest are crushed like broken hearts of many color.
-Snow that flutters down like feathers