William Cullen Bryant selected the month of his death:
I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round
And thought, that when I came to lie
Within the silent ground,
‘Twere pleasant, that in flowery June,
When brooks sent up a cheerful tune,
And groves a joyous sound,
The sexton’s hand, my grave to make,
The rich, green mountain turf should break.
He got his wish, dying on June 12, 1878. Be careful what you hope for.
In happier poetical June news, I’ve just received my friend Stephen Lewandowski’s latest chapbook, O Lucky One (http://foothillspublishing.com/2010/id57.htm). Steve, whose work has been praised by Ted Kooser, among many others, protects watersheds and poetizes his native Finger Lakes region of New York. Wry, rooted, and rather melancholy–check him out.