Every morning,
we walked together on the same path--
the same old road.

Along the way,
we would pass by the familiar sight of the village's cherry blossom trees.
This year, they bloomed a bit later than usual,
so we were lucky enough to still be able to catch remnants of the petals falling.
The same unchanging beauty--each and every year.

I wonder...
Will our days continue to go on like this?

                      It would be great if they did.

But even if the trees stand still through harsh winters and warm summers,

they start to change

ever so slowly and unnoticeably.