Promise me: be there in grateful June.
We’ll lay the grass down, pour open the sun.
We’ll share it out, and watch the winds begin
Song without note or notice, dance
Disembodied, movement in itself
Casting shadows, as leaves in summer shall.
The present heat, brought easefully to us
By the distances of clouds, to high relief:
You’ll be there soon, my love. I know you will.
We’ll share it there, and breathe its presence in.
We’ll lie on grass, poured out like open sun:
So promise you’ll be there, in grateful June.
I for one am half sick of winter, now. It’s had its time. Summer must come, soon. It just has to.