Mayday Sonnet as Distorted Mirror

The melting snow proves everything
that unfolds in time comes to an end.
Suppose a certain number of years
ago your grandmother was born.
The sky swirled with pink seeds
she’d grow up to call helicopters.
It’s too windy: the souls of the dead
must be unsettled. The souls of those of us
walking around in the wind are unsure
whether we’re dreaming past wars
or making new ones. Mayday as a call of distress
comes from the French: m’aidez.
Help me
. The weeping cherry is either dead
from the cold snap or hasn’t bloomed yet.

*

The cold snap killed the weeping cherry
or it hasn’t bloomed yet. Help me in
French is m’aidez, Mayday,
a call of distress. This new month makes
weather for dreaming past wars in,
walking around in the wind in, unsure,
unsettled. The souls of those of us living
think it’s too windy; the souls of the dead
grow visible, hover like helicopters.
The sky swirls with pink seeds.
Long ago your grandmother was born.
Suppose a certain number of years
unfolds in time and comes to an end
The melting snow proves everything.

 

 

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