Late July’s warm rain
Makes the barefoot walk to the mailbox
Feel like swimming in the Caribbean.
Clover blossoms stick secretly between the toes
Lungs inhale a lusty moist zephyr
Hair hangs in seaweed locks.
A catbird follows overhead
Lofting with some labor
From branch to branch
She sings and sings
Hoping I will catch the tune and join in
The sly sylvan chorus.