January wakes us weary,
New resolutions pressing heavy.
Then comes February’s charm—
A month of love, or wasted calm.
We march ahead into March,
Preparing for the chill to lurch.
April brings the planting days,
As a third of the year slips away.
Hope returns with open skies,
Maybe this month—maybe May.
June arrives with quiet tunes,
We wish the world would feel okay.
Halfway through, we...
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