A sight for sorry eyes

The large tree looms over the mossy walkway.
Once beautiful, now barren
The seasons wash away its once glorious blossom leaves.
The grey branches are a somber sight,
A tree as old as the complex itself,
Still standing tall, still standing true.
As the sun sets once more
I remember all the times the blossom leaves fell,
And how I eagerly awaited their return.
A sight for sorry eyes.