February, Not July

My birthday came and went
and I thought of you,
yours came and went
of course, I thought of you,
think of you every day
missing you, though
the missing feels like less
and that feels wrong
but I think you know
what I mean, especially
after almost four years.

But let’s go back forty years,
I’m guessing, but it feels right.
Your birth stone, February
amethyst. Mine July, ruby.
I say to you, Mikey, you will
never need your birth stone,
never buy a necklace or earrings
because it represents you and
your connection to the month
you were born.

I remember how you rolled
your eyes in your head, exhaled
a big brother sigh, wishing this
were over already but you knew
how detailed I can be, definitive,
precise if not concise.

And I don’t really like red,
don’t connect to it other than
Christmas and St Valentine’s Day
though purple hearts are better
than red.

So I summarized it, finally
your eyes said, stopping
their search for respite.
Since you will never need
your birth stone, I’m taking it.
You can have mine if you want
but I’m taking amethyst. You
can keep February and snow
and all that cold blustery frost.
I’ll keep July, perfect for me,
summer everything and now with
purple. Amethyst I’m taking, ok?

I’ll never forget your laughing
assent, so glad that it was over,
an agreement made that meant
nothing to you but even after
all these years, means so much
to me.

~ J R Turek Hour 3