There is no December

[Anonymous]

The cold hands of January
grasp at February’s promise, change this comma to a semicolon for easier reading?
the warmth of March
always just out of reach.

You rub my shoulders,
kiss away the ache
as April continues her rain
over gentle, submissive May. great line to end a beautiful stanza

We sing the song of the whippoorwill,
its haunting anthem crooning
out across the valley floor
when June gives in to July

and August crowns the summer sky.
September will leave
when the colors bleed, outstanding
October betrayed by the coming frost.

What will you do
when November comes,
when ice and pain the word "pain" seems forced here to achieve the internal rhyme you have set up. Pain is neurons reacting to a wound in the body; it is an alarm to the person enduring a wound to get help quickly. Thus, simply pain cannot kill someone, or claim their breath.
move in to claim my breath?

Comfort me.
Smile with me.
Lie to me.
Tell me there is no December.

Really, really, really enjoyed this poem. It's creative, eloquent, and pretty. Thanks for the read, not a lot I would change.

That small pain tirade i went on is merely an option. The word still works fine in the poem.