Our Sun imprints heavy July
Upon a crimson sunset.
The first star I see in the west
Brings with it a cobalt sigh ...

By the way a rock pigeon cooed
   Deliberately out of sight
And moved me to rise from bed
   With my own jingle in heart

And July's breath stills the pond
   In its disarming manner
And robs the chimes of their song
   And warms the oleander

And the way a cottontail
   Sits and stirs among the grass
And a quail stands atop the wall
   And doesn't mind my presence