A MEMORY OF JUNE
by: Claude McKay (1890-1948)
- HEN 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.
"A Memory of June" is
reprinted from Harlem Shadows. Claude McKay. New York:
Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922. |
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POEMS BY CLAUDE MCKAY |
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