Tourist gather around the Tidal Basin during peak season--
awaiting the blooms of cherry blossoms bursting with
hints of pale pink and white.
The window of opportunity so slight to marvel in the beauty,
only soon to be washed away by rain and thunderstorms so loud
they echo across the Potomac like Narcissus calling out,
"is anyone there."
The remains of the branches are bare and ordinary,
passing as common trees fading into the others.
Until next year, the branches are dark and unaided--
lines of tourist impatiently await the next offering.
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