"Written One May"

The flowers of May
Like an exhilarating perfume
Intoxicating the warm air
Open windows exhaling hibernation
And allowing in the Spring
Activity in the neighborhood
Implying dissipation of any and all
Conceived cloister or hemitage
Skies almost bluer than your eyes
While you recite truths
Like tiny litanies to my heart
Hypnotizing me like a Svengali
Yes, May is almost perfect
My being feels exalted
And my heart is always glad
That is why I do not understand
Why you chose to leave in May

Delighting in the bouquet of sound:
Children's laughter,
A dog's bark,
The train in the distance,
My feet rustling the grass,
The light wings of the birds,
The beating of my heart,
The sound of my breathing,
The sprouting of a bud
And turning of a tender leaf
The only thing lacking is your voice
May is almost like chalkmarks
Scribbled on the sidewalks
Which wash away without a trace
When the evening rain comes
Leaving the walks clear for more graffiti
Like a fresh page

2001 poetheart

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