Late May
Apple trees
and cherry trees in bloom help the place to float freely
in the lovely
grimy May night, a white life-jacket, thoughts fan out wide.
Grass and
weeds with silent stubborn wingbeats.
The mailbox
gleams calmly, what’s written can’t be taken back.
A mild cool
breeze moves through the shirt and gropes for the heart.
Apple trees
and cherry trees, they laugh silently at Solomon
they
blossom in my tunnel. I am in need of them
not for
forgetting but for remembering.
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