In January
you reach a point
where you don't
even care anymore.
Sterile, continuous cold
invades your brain
and body. You are
numb to it all.
Daydreaming
of warm June nights
and summer afternoons
is strongly advised.
Smelling wetness and
lilacs in the slow moving
progression of the morning.
Listening for robins.
Sweetness in the
smell of new cut lawns.
The lake scented feel
of a July afternoon.
Frogs are peeping in
grass flooded ditches.
Calling each other to
stop by for a drink.
August gardens are
heavy and bloated.
Overgrown plants are
heavy with fruit.
Weekends sit lazy and
fat from indulgence.
Sunfish are feasting as they
break the water mirror.
Waking at midnight
to calling, sleek nighthawks.
Exchanging greetings with
wandering brown bats.
Alone in the garden to
sit with geraniums.
Breathing the air that
is heavy with bees.
Thunder is rolling
from the distant gray.
The air is scented with
sweet summer rain.
Setting the sun behind
far away shorelines.
Spending the evening
chasing the stars.
The End
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