They called her June, though she was born in the stark, grey chill of November. It was a cruel irony of the calendar, they said, to give a name associated with solstice and sun to a girl made of winter bones and quiet sighs.
I never saw June Bates again. The library stacks are empty now. The coffee shop changed owners. But the frantic searches continue. I see them on forums, on social media, the desperate plea: "she is the poem by june bates pdf free download free." she is the poem by june bates pdf free download free
She is the hush between the storm,
The breath that steadies the tide,
A quiet pulse in a world that never stops,
The echo of a promise we both keep. They called her June, though she was born
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