A May’s Day Sonnet Colin Howe, '16 It was a hickory tree, upon a cold Forest, struggles from the earth and twists, flays, Gnaws itself along, yet still green I suppose. Its leaves knew light would come, someday So they remained, un-withered, a testament To the power of laughing it all away. And sturdy branches, echoed the same sentiment But now the gold rush of the sky, a cay Of light, a palm tree oasis, glowing As a moonbeam on a warm summers night Fills the darkness as time, begins, slowing… And spinning as it all, falls, out of sight So its branches reach into the maze Growing, ever closer, to the blaze.