See the weeping cherry willow tree
standing at this rural road’s bend?
Its mournful pink petals bloom free,
yet tremble in an alien April wind.
The bough darkens with distiller’s mold
and an overcast Kentucky sky—
does the tree dream beside this road,
its roots longing for the soil of Sendai?
It dreams as a lost lover whose reminiscences
amidst dandelions and bluegrass
remind that it is a foreigner born by cedar fences
while restless race horses snort and pass.