The last throes of winter

The last throes of winter are soon forgotten, the throes of love lost never.



If cold is bitter, is heat sweet?
In April it showers and sometimes snows
In May winter’s last throes

Melt in the heat of a golden sun and
In June

Soon, are forgotten
The Robin has built its nest
And hatched its brood
The chicks have broken through
Now its time to rest
By July
There is nothing left to do
Except to bake in the midday sun
And have some fun at the lake
Oh, watermelons do not ripen til August
Just before my love, I lost
She said you taste so bitter and so sweet
Like the lemonade of summer

American Robin in Kansas

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