The Winter Keeps Me Company
Spring is a sun-kissed woman
With a round belly and sunburnt cheeks
Who sits on upon my window pane
And with orange juice stains across her feather-light blouse she sings to me:
“Without upkeep both people and houses alike will come to poison you.”
And she is gone like yellow chalk in rain.
Summer is a drunk man
With flowers in his beard and “Gone Fishing” tacked into his forehead
Who accidentally broke into my home believing it to be his
And snores on my golden honeysuckle couch
And with bourbon on his breath he calls out:
“Damn, termites eatin’ at my brain again.”
And then disappears in a single night like fireflies.
Autumn is a freckled boy
With a runny nose and scraped up knees,
Who timidly knocks on my mahogany door,
And insists on taking a bath until the water runs cold,
And with a medley of lemon drops and apple cider in his mouth he says:
“Miss, it’s getting nippy out, may I have a scarf?”
Then one night sneaks off with it wrapped around his neck like a snug snake.