Unkempt if you will
mazy with grass seed and insects.
By which you read Summer.
A season warm and static. Nothing
surely can happen beyond the buzz
of the bees in the salvia. Stay here, lie
on the lawn the whole day
until its light and heat dissolve into night
until at last we must seek shelter.
Forget about the dog, unpredictable
on the boundary, the strange look
she gets in her eyes as she lunges,
hurls her longing and discontent
repeatedly against the fence.
Unkempt if You Will
1 August 2017