A Memory Of June

When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
And mating thrushes ushering in her day,
And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest,

I always see the evening when we met--
The first of June baptized in tender rain--
And walked home through the wide streets, gleaming wet,
Arms locked, our warm flesh pulsing with love's pain.

I always see the cheerful little room,
And in the corner, fresh and white, the bed,
Sweet scented with a delicate perfume,
Wherein for one night only we were wed;

Where in the starlit stillness we lay mute,
And heard the whispering showers all night long,
And your brown burning body was a lute
Whereon my passion played his fevered song.

When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses staining her fair feet,
My soul takes leave of me to sing all day
A love so fugitive and so complete.

by Claude McKay

Comments (7)

I love the feeling embedded in the poem.
ah, what memories of my younger days when i thought i was in love.richard lavelle
all I could read is jet fuel can't melt steel beams and 9/11 did bush
Very romantic piece of poetry well graced in metaphoric piece of lines with beautiful rhyme scheme. A lovely poem indeed. Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful poem, I am surprised it is not better known.
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