May has arrived
without my knowing.
It crept inside
with an invisible cloak
and wore the mask of April.
It is so peculiar
for me to not have noticed.
May is my month,
My mother's month as well.
May means possibilities
I may have a wonderful May day.
I was sure May
would don flowers
blossoming in the plains.
that is not the case.
May still cries
for her flowers.
April did not
cry enough, it seems.
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Comments about this poem (May by Unintelligible Susurration )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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