by ROBERT ROTHMAN
June me! Past the cold, the tepid, to the
heat. Disrobe me! Out of bear skin coats,
hobnailed boots, scarfs wound round the neck
like a noose. April tempted. May pretended.
Still, the cold persists: in the morning like
a knife; as a harridan at night. That reign now
over: Bathed in the light. Swoon me silly! so
I can’t keep my balance right. So I am
teeter-totter in the slats and shafts. Perfume
me! Bring those aromatic molecules on
the breeze that send nose to sniff and dip
like a hummingbird flitting tongue to sip and
sip. Reclaim me! Too long underground with the
shades of what was and can’t be changed, Now
am above and out: unwrapped; unbound.
Juned to the spring and hop of summer’s tune.
From Issue 11
ROBERT ROTHMAN. lives in Northern California, near extensive trails and open space, with the Pacific Ocean over the hill. His work has appeared in Atlanta Review, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, Tampa Review, Willow Review, and over one hundred other literary journals in the United States, England, Canada, Wales, Ireland, and Australia. Please see his website (www.robertrothmanpoet.com) for more information about him and his work.