A layered cloud piled in the sky;
A lazy, jerking butterfly;
A puppy’s tongue hung out to dry;
Cicadas singing, keening high;
Heat-hanging leaves that droop and sigh;
First zinnias; a nighthawk’s cry;
Macadam roads that melt and fry;
Picnics; fresh blackberry pie;
A fledgling bird with questing eye;
A horde of insects, hungry, sly;
Clearance sales entreating “Buy!”;
Garden weeds that multiply;
Poets who sit–too tired to try:
This scrambled picture is July!
by Ray Romine Saturday, July 7, 1951
