July

A string of July days – precisely 15 of them – have blown by with the help of hot, summer sun sliding across deep blue, clouds that bring rain and clouds that don’t, hours at work, hours at home, hours with seltzer water, chatter, and wine.

Why so fast, Summer?

If your lengthy days weren’t taking me across the country this week – to my golden heart’s friends, new decks, big cities, humidity’s curly hair, and shared kisses, cats, and coffees – I would be displeased at your speed.

However, I have other things to muse on in this moment, for instance: the potential cavity that my recent vanilla ice cream and rainbow-flavored Nerds habit might be forming; the cool night air on the other side of the door that waits for me to take the dogs out; the endless trail of moth carcasses in the graveyard under the table where Annie sits; the question of sleeping on my back or my stomach tonight; and love.

Also, all the faces I will see and hold and squeeze and kiss in July’s next 15 days, and a few of August’s after that.

Be well. Slow down. Sleep sweet.

– SAWK

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