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.