I wandered through a park today
and saw in bloom lush cherry trees.
Like ballerinas they did sway.
With arms aloft and limbs at ease,
they touched the sky and clouds did tease.
Pink petals fluttered everywhere,
fell on my path, perfumed the air.

On both sides of a stream they stood,
its waters shiny velvet blue.
And crossing o'er, a bridge of wood
invited me to ford there, too.
If only I'd a birch canoe
to take me where the currents led,
I might have climbed aboard and fled.

But cross I did the old plank span
and soon saw deer tracks on the trail.
Though does and bucks will dodge a man,
a spotted fawn with flapping tail
flew by me to a flowered vale.
I watched it circle, settle in
amongst some ferns, beside its twin.

Next winter when I'm oft confined
by snow, harsh winds or arctic cold,
I'll scroll down entries in my mind,
let pleasant memories unfold,
recall this day, its background bold.
Somehow the scene's now early dawn
yet nestled in the ferns--that fawn.