I have my winter tires switched for summers. In the garage, I ask the owner how he is. He leans back in his chair, shrugs, and lifts his hands.
I know, I say, but it’s May. It’s spring.
He shrugs again. Which sums up where we are now.
May reminds us why we live in Vermont. The world turns gorgeously green. My daughters and I walk and walk, discovering trilliums, rushing streams, the tiniest of leaves. In a world where we’re all worn down, spring’s beauty reminds us that the world spins on.
From Diana Whitney’s lovely new anthology, You Don’t Have to be Everything:
4 thoughts on “May Day”
Yes, it is spinning on, and much too quickly!
What a beautiful poem. Happy May Day! Cold here, but that means the tulips will last longer.
My sister in law gave me Kate Baer’s book for Christmas. I only got to it last week and opened it to this exact poem. My daughter was home from college after a hard decision was made for the college to discontinue the draft horse crew (which she was part of and loved, loved, loved). She was still reeling from the news, but adjusting to the idea. I read her this poem. It helped. xo
I am so sorry to hear that news for your daughter! My heart goes out to all of you! XO