My front porch welcomes your return each year.
Built like a Sherman tank with wings - the night
is filled with music to the springtime ear,
the buzz and clatter of your noisy flight.
Announcing to the world it now is June,
you fly into our lives and cast your spell,
reminding us that summer beckons soon -
sweet season of youth's freedom from school bell.
Ah yes, first love that bloomed in June's warm sun -
that first kiss, blushing like a timid squirrel
and holding hands in public with the one
who showed me I could be loved by a girl.
Your tenure brief; then by July's first day,
like childhood and young love, you've flown away.
written 29 May 2022