I Don'T, All Year

I don’t own a car, So I use my new dog sled These January winters Blowing ice right through my head I don’t have a lover So no friend or special one To ease my February When Valentine’s fail to come. I don’t own an umbrella So my hair is stiff and wet St. Patrick’s Day spent in the rain When March brings her regrets. I don’t own a bathtub So I hope these storms are strong It’s time for my yearly bath When April showers come along. I don’t have a garden No tulips or roses share the light When May bring flowers everywhere My empty lot is quite a sight. I don’t own a bonnet So no flowers and bows for me June shows me no warmth and sunshine When summer breaks the monotony. I don’t own a television So parades must all be live Flags and flowers, bands and food When July brings patriots to life. I don’t have a gazebo So no waiting on the lawn For children playing on the steps When August rolls along. I don’t have a radio So the silence creates a fuss As school starts up in my town When September brings the bus. I don’t have a front window So no display of fright to see Pumpkins, candy, trick or treat October has nothing for me. I don’t own an oven No baking pies or turkey birds November shows me cold instead My life is so absurd. I don’t own a living room No porch or hall or tree No decorations at Christmastime I created a world of just me.