Without any promises,
Spring comes to me
With many colored buds
And even more multi
Colored blossoms waiting
To fall from the tree
Unnoticeably to allow the
Fruit to flourish with the
Warmth of the sun in miles
Of deep blue skies and
Morning hazes dropping dew
Upon tomorrow when we will
Pick the fruit and sit and
Eat while time goes by
Never stopping for an instant
Not even to reflect on where
We have been or where we might be
In future memories.