In which way

The iron clouds pillar up-

appearing as smoke stacks

of weathered industry.

A white hot moon

dims in the distance,

cooling its crusty heel-

by degree-one feels

cool and aloof, like May.

The flowers will soon turn

their heavy heads toward the sky,

and the palm fronds will sail

and sway, catching wind waves-

still, for now, rising lightly...

When it warms up to-day

it May use more than greys

tinged with purple promises

that Summer burns

just over the horizon.

Yet, May bees, I've learned
aren't always knows.

Photo By kallerna (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.