while dew was still shining on flowers
mother went with her knapsack of seeds
to the cemetery
to raise petunias and daisies
father climbed on the top of the cherry tree
half-sleeping
a baby spring wind opened a pathway
in his white hair

some bees came to visit us
but it was too early
I waved my arms to send them away
fearing they would frighten dad
or they will make him think it was too late
in order not to wake him up
or lull him asleep completely

at our home
while mother pulled out weeds
father lay stretched atop the cherry tree
like over a calm sea
to avoid drowning
the way all dead float still on their backs
over flowers