The Day the Blossom Blew Away

Esther Byrne

A close-up of white cherry blossoms from underneath looking up at the sky. A branch in silhouette bisects the image from bottom left to top right, with a vertical offshoot on the left side. In the background, more blossoms are visible but out of focus. The sky is a bright white.

Photo Credit: Natalie Barletta/Flickr (CC-by-nc-nd)

It meant a great deal to me; that tree.

It shone crisp white; a promise of spring in my rule-bound winter.

Everyone else had gone for the holidays, leaving the world silent.
I decided to climb into its branches and let it hold me.
A comfort in my life devoid of kind words.

But the blossom blew away, taking me with it.

Now, I’m surrounded by a different kind of white.
All uniforms and beds and questions.

There may be no tree, but I have flowers with me.
I’m held and I’m safe.


It suits me just fine here.


Esther Byrne is a writer from Yorkshire, UK. She has had short stories published with 50-Word Stories and Secret Attic. In 2021, she was runner-up for the Val Wood Yorkshire prize. She lives with chronic illness and is passionate about encouraging people with disabilities to express themselves creatively. Twitter: estherbyrnecom