“In summer, the song sings itself.” ~William Carlos Williams
The heat envelopes me
as bugs cling to my sweat
and I am left holding my breath —
a sure sign that summer is here
June, you pretty darling
why are you singing so?
I once yearned for your songs –
the lyrics of birds
the chatter of squirrels
the laughter of kin in the creek
Such sweet melodies!
What’s become of me, Sweet June?
Now I stow away inside my room —
I’ve tuned my ear to the hum
of artificial air – an artificial life
Only at night do the call of the crickets
break through – and I remember you