Annuals: A Poem For The Months Of The Year
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Annuals: A Poem For The Months Of The Year

When wondering if the twelve months have personalities, they do.

Annuals: A Poem For The Months Of The Year
Celia Brnetic

a n n u a l s

January lies down on the sofa and sighs.

Cold bitter snow covers him like a blanket,

untouched he lays for once another journey

Out of politeness, February doesn’t make a sound

making sure to keep quiet, he has begun to cause both the good

and the bad

so he sits as relationships fail infront of him.

March teaches himself to knit

to hide how green his envy really is.

All he ever asked for was more luck in finding a better life.

April eavesdrops on the birds sitting upon the windowsill.

May’s lips are as red as the roses blooming outside.

Upstairs, June washes the mud off of her feet in the bath tub.

July blissfully swallows the sun in spoonfuls

that begin to scorch her tongue.

August, sweating and tired, falls asleep on the porch swing

not noticing when

September ignites shooting orange and yellow hues across the sky.

October reads a book by flashlight hiding himself under the covers

somewhat resembling the children that dress as glowing white ghosts on Halloween

November prepares a turkey

watching families come together

only to watch them say goodbye again.

December is a dove

he brings joy to the world

though suddenly he leaves too soon

as he dies peacefully in his sleep.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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