it’s the kind of night
when even the tallest trees
are filled with fireflies
that glimmer in the darkness, competing against the moon.

First fireflies show up
in the dusk of the evening.
The dog breathes a sigh
as does the wind in the trees.
The moon and the stars peek through.

The dog is restless. 
First one spot, then another
Trying to get cool. 
The air conditioner fights. 
80 degrees at midnight. 

At daybreak the sun
has woven fingers of light
through branches of trees
and over the windowsill;
a welcoming wake up call.

Fine day for walking;
we shake off the detritus
of a somber day,
and chase the sun down the trail
with the dog dawdling behind.

Unseasonable,
the invigorating cold.
The new moon kisses
clouds that scud across the sky
as night falls and the wind dies.

Look briefly away
and the foliage rises up. 
The shrubs overtake
the windows and the walkways.
Time to wrangle the garden.

A house finch couple
has made a nest in the shrub
that stands tall beside
the feeder and the window,
entertainment for Felix.

Brown bird in the rain
perches on the bird feeder,
then flits to shelter
beneath the weeping cherry.
Canopy of summer green.

This year’s long wet spring
was kind to the fragile flowers
that don’t like the heat.
Lamium maculatum
wraps itself against the stairs.