June

I wrote you a letter

And sent it off some months ago, have you read it yet

When the saints were celebrating the risen king

And his march from his tomb

When the flowers were opening their pedals

To the heavens, and praying for tempered rain

But that hasn't happened for years, they say

Now it's summer and the buds have faded

And I can't think to get out of bed

When you're struggling to find a purpose

And swim through all the red