I sit under Sarah's tree as I listen to the giggle of careless cherry blossom nymphs passing by. My heart nearly skips a beat as I suddenly feel someone's presence behind me. I don't bother to turn around until she lays her flowery hand on my shoulder. It's a cherry nymph, made up completely of cherry blossoms. She's young, but something about her seems sad. This takes me by surprise, because even though the nymphs and dryads are ruled by emotion, the nymphs usually seem happy.
She doesn't say anything as I re-focus on his tree, but she keeps her weightless hand on my shoulder. Her presence is comforting. She gives me an odd and overwhelming sense of complete calm. "It's all going to be okay," she seems to whisper with a voice like the cool fresh air.
YOU ARE READING
middle school poems & stories
Poetrycan't classify most of this as poetry but I also can't really classify it as anything except bad
