JUNE

Deep in emerald foliage, barky black and gray,
moss frosted, giant, vine cloaked, arboreal
chia-pet Druids, the forest in repose.

Hit-n-run Gemini rains leave the misty moor
flush with flowers, flies, and toads.
And the “real world” with its deadlines,
dead-ends, and deadheads, screams
“LIES, LIES, LIES.”

Overhead, darkening skies adorn themselves
with plundered treasures of unicorn and dragon riders,
the last known quantum magicians,
the last Gandolfs and Merlins,
you and I.

–LE – Circa 1985

This is a reprise that is appropriate since ‘June is bustin’ out all over…’