The flip-flop tan lines that were so neat,
Are fading now, we’ve turned on the heat,
They call it June-uary here,
Storms, cold and clouds have replaced the clear,
Forty seven degrees for a morning run,
The birds still sing and have their fun,
But this Cali girl has a hard time now,
She shakes her head and furrows her brow,
For this month means shorts and outdoor pools,
Polar fleece and beanies? How uncool.
Thoughts of July and August get us through,
Bright, long days and barbecues,
We know that summer is on its way,
But we’ll stash the Coppertone today,
OK, sun – we’ll see you soon,
Maybe not right now. Maybe not in June.