july spent on the seventh

raspberry seed chapstick, new car smell

candy wrappers bent over backwards in different scented air

i'll stretch my legs again when it's dark out

joints popping, fingers cracking

expelling long waited excitement

by whispering under the dogbed moon.

before long there will be all the songs of loons and owls

old cousins dipping toes on amber rocks like

planes kissing wings with angels on clouds and

pine trees pushing back time 

with smoky fingers 

trapping us 

between soft lulls of candle wax

and hourglass sand and

that gentle lull 

of kind water 

turning yellowing pages into moss

miracle after miracle

year after year