refroze,
and melted again;
a feverish freezer burn whiplash
a month of paradox
going places to go no where
doing nothing yet things happening
cold to hot to cold to hot
from sitting still in the sky for days
no maypole celebrations here
only blood
red maple leaves falling
red stripes sliding
halfway down
tears to be erased by alcohol wipes
smell of sanitizer in the news;
they are trying to make things look positive
but early blooms cut short are an omen
pollen scattered instead of rain
the only thing I could breathe
other than winter sand, chalk,
and dust from my unfinished bathroom
On June fifth I am still
positive
