Dear May

Thank you for:

The pink flowers

The crane at the park

The sweet smell in the air

Beautiful harvests of green and fragrant and nourishing things

Blue skies with the white clouds

The world all lit up green beneath the evening sun

Cafe Rio and goat cheese and avocados and wheat beer

The iced mochas and the time to write; the sun on my skin, those dark gray clouds and the sunset lighting up the trees all golden against them

The good ripe earth

Please bring:

Sunny mornings and warm afternoons

A house

A job

Pretty things

Margaritas on the Cinco

More of my daughters reenacting Ophelia's watery death in the backyard


Please don't:

Kill my Mojito Mint plant. I named it Hemingway.


Maybe next year,

I will remember to celebrate May Day by leaving blossoms on doorsteps. But this was not that year.

I love you May. I have high hopes for you. Don't let me down.

(those were the manipulation skills I've learned from being a mom).

Love,

Vesuvius