May 1st by Will Snelling

May 1st

The fragrant rot of plants and insects

is everywhere, sparking a riot

of swallow music as blossom collects 

in gutters like a wedding storm,

a hail shower of pink and white,

a light coming on inside a room. 

The need to be elsewhere is gone

now every scrap of park floods

with people content to be alone

among the nearness of all these others,

not pressed inside their winter moods,

but sprawled below the sun like bathers,

making do with hills for waves,

traffic whir for ocean hiss.

Something half-forgotten moves

inside us now the city’s in bloom.

You lie afloat on ruffled grass,

the evening open in your palm. 

Will Snelling works as a librarian and lives in London. His work has featured in Acumen, Wild Court, and And Other Poems.