Under the Japanese cherry tree blooming by the road

An old dog died

It was a cross-breed that’s been kicked out

And thrown rocks and butts at, anything they came across

It was around three o’clock in the afternoon

I was on my way back from the supermarket

Carrying a shopping bag over my shoulder, he was lying down like dogs do,

But since chicken giblets didn’t revive his instinct

I pushed him with the tip of my sandal

Soft gray hairs on which petals were falling

Or something else totally invisible

I’m staring at the cherry tree that doesn’t appear worried

I see myself at last, children are passing by me licking ice creams

Ladies with bows in their hair, fathers of favourites.

Because this is the order of things

I stood under the Japanese cherry tree

And waited for my turn calmly





Naida Mujkic


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