This June

June 1, 2010

I awaken
at quarter till six
when the one window
in my room is flooded
with light from the
newborn sun
flat on my back,
I glance down at
the bare hand
connected to the
bare arm lying across
my chest, brown
curls cover the pillow
she stole from me
in the night

Staring up
at the dim white
stucco ceiling
I think about last June
how I felt the despair
of friends long gone
and how I ached,
more than anything,
to avoid being like
Frost’s oven bird:
screeching at dawn
alone in a forest
beyond reach

And now
waking up to this
I shut my weary eyes,
trying to steal a few
soft fragments
of sleep from wherever
it is they come from
before time begins to
slip away again


That damn sixth month
Harbinger of change
And for once, I don’t want it
Truth be told I should
We split like arrows
On a rusty compass
Why do I have be the
One pointing north?
I guess it makes sense
One heads west
Another back south
The third went east
Before any of us saw
The looming shadow of June
Black out the sun on
Where we used to be
Am I the one we all use
As a point of reference?
Refresh my memory
Maybe I’m supposed to
Be the stable one here
We both know I can’t stand
Acting responsibly
I can see that weekend
In my head now
We all come together
Like an explosion in reverse
A graceful implosion
And just like that
We move apart with
Equal force
A collective bound
By the gravity of