May day

It’s a late spring
leaves tight furled
& the swallows
ruffle feathers
In the chill:
the willow
Is ephemeral
like a fragile
young girl,
testing her
I think of
you often
distance never
the warmth
you bring,
& I hide
the empty

with dreams
of mellow
a burning
sun &
summer kisses:
the taste
of you,
like cherries.

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