Sakura Bloom
Claire Kroening
In the downpour of morning spring
barren trees pour love
to what was once stranded roadways
before the evening haze.
While sugar skies gloom,
they swirl cotton-candy blooms;
opening endearment fists with abandon.
From sleepless city-streams
reflecting a faint, august ray.
The world falls for the sakura cherries.
Wandering on starry-eyed nostalgia
against street signs left in the rain.
By what was once lost
between bittersweet blossoms,
swept under ever-quickening steps,
a touch like velvet;
What little weeks they live.
Claire Kroening (they/them) is a queer poet based in Wisconsin. Their work has been published or upcoming in Honeyfire Lit, Chemical Inevitable, Maythorn Magazine, and Same Faces Collective, among others. In their free time, they appreciate visiting art museums and studying creative writing. More of their work can be found on Instagram (@clairerosek) and on their website clairekroening.com.
