sonnet for the end of this month

My Fondness; February


I looked up, and you were almost gone from sight.
Shortest month, carrier of snow and five-day work weeks.
What will I do without you, my surly ni-ga-tsu?

How I will miss riding my bike to school in freezing rain,
The bike you rusted and then tossed on its side overnight.
You made the seat soggy every morning,
so consistent and patient.

How I will miss seeing steam in the bathroom,
riding straight home in the twilight,
drinking alone and huddling for warmth,
positing upon possible reasons
for a complete lack of insulation in human habitats.

What reason is there now, to lug 18 liters of kerosene to my apartment?
What motivation can I find to pace up and down my train platform,
just to maintain feeling in my limbs?
And February! February! No longer will I mock those girls,
their skirts unmodified for sub-freezing temperatures,
with thighs the pale white of dying skin.

What has become of us February?
What did I do wrong?
I mean besides despising every single minute of your existence?
No relationship is perfect.

I will see you next year, secret passion.
Maybe sometime you will stick around for an extra day?
I thought so;
I know you February.

For I have felt your careless touch;
joined we are, by arctic whispers,
together, though separated now by my happiness.