Dear March June – Come in…
With apologies to Ms. Dickinson
Dear June – Don’t stand at the doorDo come in. You are always welcome,Unlike March who came in unannouncedAnd stayed late till May
I had hoped she would stay out a bit lateAnd may be let me enjoy the left-about chillFebruary had forgotten, for some more time but –She came in early anyway, and took overApril and May.
I wouldn’t have recognized you, eitherBut for the hints of July showers.So, my dear, I shan’t serenade youwith longings for purple and poems
Or complaints that lovers hide under lipsTo tempt, tease and seduce. My lips, once againHave stayed out late, arguing with April and MayOr should I say silhouettes of March…And you know who… Or hadn’t you noticed?
Of course, you came in long after the sun.I suppose I should tell you that I like my sunLike I liked my dogs – far, far. Far away and secluded.I once told March that, but it fell on deaf ears
I wish I had missed you moreBut the last year was spent counting stars and treesAnd envying the flight of birds from behind barsAnd baking bread and writing poems – So, you see, June,the only seasons I enjoyed last year was Vivaldi.
It’s almost like you never went away– wait?Who knocks? Oh yes, Dear old July… always impetuousThe door is open, but take your time – I’m bronzed;At leisure enjoying the last gold of mangoes and sun.
Dear June, when all the jazz and hullaballoo of July is overDo have a word with March – Ask her to take a vacationI shall miss her just as fervently as I miss you – or will I?Will I appreciate your autumnal beauty without her sun?And what of the Sun tinted mangoes?
Perhaps June, you’ll simply just walk inAnd ignore my Mad-March-monologue – by nowRealizing that wishing is just as pointless as wantingAnd my wanton wanting is just mere wishing.
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Photo by Jorge Vasconez on Unsplash