On the path outside the faculty
a tree is in delicate white bloom.
A pair of women walk underneath it.
One gestures to the flowers
the other holds her hand as they cross the street.
I would like to reach up and touch the tree
feel what has changed between now and winter.
Perhaps there is a new lightness about it
perhaps I want to believe there is.
A breeze pulls the flowers free
and sends them soaring downwards.
I put out a hand to catch them.
Before they reach the ground
they have fallen apart