Cherries

In the garden where cherries grow, grow every year

I sit and wait until next year comes

There, cherries, the diamonds reflect my memories

me as a child, as a girl, as a blossoming flower

there I sit and wait longer, and longer

and all memories arrive back to me

and I see my grandmother in an old- fashioned apron

leaning back, under that tree, that tree of solitude

waiting for cherries to be thrown down by me

there are gone, memories decay

but I still sit and wait, and wallow, wallow

waiting for year, the year that follows

my memories