June - When Missouri Pretends to be Perfect

June—When Missouri Pretends to be Perfect

Ah, June, when Missouri pretends to be perfect!
Regal in a gold-green, leafy cloak,
A garland of Queen Anne’s Lace round her shoulders
With Brown-eyed Susan’s bouncing at her feet,
She flings translucent blue chicory on roadbanks
And dances to the wild music of birdsong.

Missouri, in June, denies dusty drives and swampy feedlots.
Laughs at chigger bites, sweat bands, and sunburn.
Accused of petulant weather behavior, she sighs,
“O-oh No-o” on the deceptive voice of the wind,
“I am the irrepressible dew-covered joy of the morning. . .
I am the reverent hush of a prairie sunset!”

So you forgive her for high humidity, heat strokes and poison ivy.
For snakes, crawly things and wildlife in the garage.
Forgive her capricious rainstorms, sometimes endless,
Loosing her rivers into fields and crop.
Rivers with unquenchable appetite for space and soil.

Missouri calls seductively in June:
“Soak up my radiant sunshine, feel the soft, cool breeze.
Inhale fragrant clover blossoms and new mown hay.
Forget your ordered existence; linger in the porch swing.
Float upon my lakes, and fish in my languid streams.

Meanwhile, crabgrass flourishes; cocklebur germinates
Innocent corn sends down deep roots for thirsty days ahead
Let go your memories of July’s sweltering mid-day sun!
Give over heart and soul, and sink deep into the Present.
It’s June, when Missouri pretends to be perfect.
Carol M. Raynor (copyright 2005)