Remember June
Green enduring
Clover growing madly
Rose's thorns
Gardens lush
From feasts of rain
Here and gone
Leaving water wells behind
And drip-drops hugging
Heaps of stones and moss --

A thousand smells
A thousand dank secrets
All of life stretching upward
To regard the Sun, who
Mightily beats his yellow drum --

Who am I
But June's curator,
Tending her summer works?