May
again. Mary is crowned with flowers in her blue grotto on the corner of Main-State-and-Elm. I stop every coming and going to pull a few tiny trees. Leaves now, curled small and webbed and waiting for next week's flush of rain and heat. Mill river stretches and suns itself. Inviting as it looks, that water's still damn cold. Always put my hands in anyway. A good day for a long walk. 60 degrees in May.