May Day

Blue as the middle of the ocean, the sky pulses with promise
Bees scramble from flower to flower, driven to a frenzy
To eat, to taste, to spread new life

I lie in improbably green grass, technicolor day
Arms held above my head, wrists shackled by heavy warm sunshine
Grass tickling the inside of my thighs

Wind whispering a chilly breath down my belly
Sharp contrast to the red pepper heat of sun
Beating against my closed lids.

Ravens tok and mock in the pines
Impervious to the sumptuous invitation of spring
Black birds waiting for the seduction of winter

I feel myself pushed down into the cool dirt
By the sheer weight of the sun
And I cry May Day, may day, mayday

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