My Aunt Summer, a Sonnet

Summer! My aunt in red, redundant words, 

She, looked upon, talked about, carries trunk.

Stays with her unapologetic birds,

Who bites into juicy fruits, grown for us. 

Tulips she grows, can never reimburse,

The foul stench she blows into closed trams. 

Cocktails for beach boys who love her the most,

Keeps it all in her purple privy purse. 

Her breakdowns call an urgency for tea,

Commemorate lovers of distinct fate. 

She is pleasant, shortly before she flees,

Trick of nature, sweet at the very end.

She leaves, leaves bleed, I do dread, wind does cry, 

If she missed to take birds who couldn't fly. 

Shaira Afrida Oyshee is a Bangladeshi poet and a student in Bachelor of Design, Melbourne.