When daylight grows longer and days become warmer in May, I enjoy my hours outside more.  
It is also symbolic of any “May” we find in our lives following a winter spell.   The following
poem explains, in a small measure,
why I live the life that I do.

Blues Eraser

My withered, dried up winter soul,
left hollowed from the storms,
has now come time to cast away
depression of all forms.

Surrounded by green timbered hills,
distant mountain tops serene,
primroses, larkspur, fresh spring grass,
now clothe this once dull scene.

I float on prairie ocean grass
with each step that I take.
And yet, I'm firmly bound to soil.
My roots an anchor make.

I once read where we come from
develops who we are.
When just a child, I never dreamed
today, I'd be a czar.

For while I walk this fenceline,
the world is mine to own.
And though it's just a few short hours,
it's mine, and mine alone.

©1997 Terry Henderson