This is much delayed, and my apologies for its delay.
Sonnet for the Ides of May
Approaching solstice brings sweltering days
with each Sun hotter, brighter than the last.
For hours Earth receives abundant rays
and field grass responds by growing so fast
it obscures Solomon’s seal and clover —
but St. John’s wort glows golden by each path.
Beach breeze brings gull-cry and peeps from plover;
Apollo beats brows with fires of wrath.
Magnolia fades, and moisture haze clouds sight.
Baltimore oriole wings home to roost,
and if goldfinch judges distances right
soon a new generation will be loosed
to win in swift yellow flight over fields
through updrafts that hawk unwillingly yields.
