what happened to june? where did all that time go?one moment / it was all promise and excitement / the long days and warm nights stretching out ahead / & the next / it’s july /
july is the awkward early middle age of summer / it’s not the fresh / innocent beauty of may or the hopeful energy of june / it’s the sticky / sweaty / weary middle age – the part where the sun is scorching / & summer is starting to show its age / the plants are wilting / the animals are hiding in the shade / & you’re just counting down the days until the cool / crisp air of fall /
maybe that’s why i hate the fourth of july / it feels like the summer is holding a desperate / drunken / doomed farewell party / & you’re not sure whether to cry or cheer / maybe it’s just me / but fireworks on the fourth of july always seem a little desperate / like a last gasp / a futile attempt to keep summer going just a little bit longer /
YOU ARE READING
the still waters
Poetryi stared into the abyss of blue‚ ripples distorting the image of a stranger. ﹛ a potpourri of words ﹜