LATE MAY
Apple trees and cherry trees in bloom help this city float
in the sweet dirty May night, white life vest, my thoughts widen out.
Grasses and weeds with quiet persistent wingbeats.
The mailbox shines calmly, what is written cannot be taken back.
A mild chilly wind blows through my shirt and gropes around for my heart.
Apple trees and cherry trees, they laugh quietly at Solomon,
they blossom in my tunnel. I need them
not to forget but to remember.