Ghazal ’Tis the Friday night of summer, is early June.Long after sunset, as twilight lingers, it’s clearly June. Five broad-leaved stalks hide among the day lilies;Lift a flap to witness Jack-in-the-Pulpit preaching June. The maple syrup of March tastes distinct each day Though it all tastes about the same come June. Grieving the browning of… Read More