June has the anniversary of D-Day
and the anniversary of the death
of the author of Tropic of Cancer . . .
The Six-Day War in 1967 was in June
but July and August have the anniversaries
of Trinity and what followed in 1945 . . . but
I digress – we’re talking about June . . .
June probably has a lot of anniversaries,
many likely associated with weddings,
many of which likely led to divorces,
most of which probably weren’t in June …
Other famous people must have died
in June or were born in June . . . I was
born in June but I’m not famous . . .
June has the solstice – the one that begins
the season of summer according to the way
the planet likes to do things . . . summer
in the north, actually, but that’s the one
that counts for North Americans . . . oddly,
the days start getting shorter . . . we won’t
notice right away since we’re too busy
starting summer . . . winter just ended, didn’t it?
June creates high hopes about summer
but also fears of romances not surviving
until the autumn . . . “See you in September”
has too much meaning for far too many –
my first girlfriend slipped away from me
during the summer . . . that must have
started in June, when I think about it . . .
One hundred years ago, June may have been
the last month of innocence . . . something
must have been “brewing” in July 1914
(DHL and Frieda were married in that July) –
who knew what was about to unfold, what
kind of darkness was about to descend?
But it’s June one hundred years later:
the sun is shining, even if it’s different now, and
there’s an oriole visiting our oriole-feeder
at our cabin for the first time ever . . .
I’ll soon start a new notebook since
I begin my notebooks at the start
of each new season . . . and someone’s
summer holidays will soon be beginning …
June is a month for illusions to continue . . . and
it seems we all have far too many of them . . .
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: D.A. (David) Pratt lives in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. This “June” poem combines reflections about the month in general along with some personal notes.