January Loves April

January loves April,  

her silken white dress with its icy tint of blue sinking into  

April’s lime green skirt, buds and baby leaves rupturing its stitches, 

their hair –  

one long, whitish blonde tipped with dark blue as a reminder of the whiplike winds and frozen ground this shy winter girl is capable of, 

the other cropped short, chocolate brown with a lone streak of shocking turquoise as a reminder of the lashing rains and dangerously muddy erosion this upbeat spring girl is capable of – 

tangled with the other as April leans into January’s 

oh-so-pale neck dotted ever so carefully with light brown freckles that look like the midnight sky against her skin, 

leaning so close she can smell January’s warm, homely scent: 

her beloved cedar trees when their bark is covered with barely perceptible snowflakes; 

that sharp tang of icy air that always precedes a winter storm; 

and a sweet undertone of cinnamon and cardamom sprinkled into a mug of warm milk, mixed gently for a little girl kept up by bad dreams. 

January and April let out relaxed sighs as they gaze upward to the bluebird sky, 

April’s honey-sweetened lips (tasting of the scent newly bloomed snowdrops carry, along with the slightest hint of bitter parsley) 

pressed against January’s always-cold ones (tasting of snowflakes caught on tongues and the startling bite of peppermint) 

on this most perfect spring-ish day. 

Yes, January loves April,

with the deepest love found in earth and sky.

We can only wonder why,

but it is known to all

that January loves April

just as September loves July.