In January it snowed too much.
The ground was frozen and
The snowbanks rose to
Meet the roof of my
In February it snowed some more.
Taller the white banks grew and
I was shielded on the porch
From the wind and prying neighbors
I was safe and confined.
In March the snow began to melt.
I started to worry about the bugs
That would surely reappear soon
And the sad dead animals
Left in thawing tombs.
In April the snow was finally gone.
My father found a squirrel
Its tail stuck in the fence and
Its body limp against the wood.
You had a birthday this month.
In May the puddles stretched
To hug one another into a lake
Of natural commune.
Reflecting everything relentlessly,
The asphalt hid beneath.
In June the sun baked me fully
Like an embrace by an oven, cooked.
My skin fell off in flakes and I
Began to use them to count time.
Every second a centimeter me.
In July my mother aged with the
Weather and the heat.
The sky stayed pink for hours before
Giving up and dropping the sun.
I swatted bugs and stayed asleep.
In August it started to cool at night
And we wrapped ourselves in blankets
Beneath the sky, beneath stars.
You made coffee and bought cigarettes.
I sat back and tried not to smoke them all.
In September there was a change in the air
And I forgot already what June was like
On my fair, frail skin.
Winter was on its way
I could feel it coming once again.
In October I got a year older
And I felt like the chill in the air.
The biting and gnashing of
Cold, bitter winds.
I hid inside myself and slept.
In November I counted the leaves
And spiderwebs in the corners of rooms
Homes starting to be disbanded due to
The unbearable angry temperature.
I felt I could relate.
In December I was hopeful,
As the snow hadn’t made an appearance
I could still see the ground
And the birds were fearless.
I wish I were them.
Come January we were buried again.