"June"

by Katalina Gamarra

Water ripples
across the pond as
I weep for my forefathers.
My forefathers who
one after the other
took
their leave
of me.

My father’s ill-health
his inability
to care for himself.
A childhood on the streets
took him first.

I entered my second decade,
just as I was beginning
to process
his undoing
of me.

A year later
my grandfather followed—
taking from me
nothing
but leaving me
fear
guilt
angry that one has been taken each year.

Am I to know June
as the month of ghosts?
Will my summers be marked
by the slashing of souls?
Souls
I could not
fully love
until their demise.

Why, June?

Why do your thirty days
insist
on robbing me?
Why do you renew
my grief
just as I’ve started
to sleep again?
Why am I your bitch?