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