On the last day of may
overshadowed with gray
you feel rain in your bones
and hear children play
and you sing like a siren
in pale moonlight
and you're certain the dead
visit you in the night
and when the rain falls
in thick, warm drops
through the red maple's branches
your breath just stops
and your bare feet
feel the life energy
sometimes it's so strong
you can just barely see
to the ends of time
and back through the ring
like matching both ends
of a ribbon or string