The grass is tall with seeds
Standing soft in a warm breeze
The flowers weigh heavy with
Nectar and pollen for the bees

The lilacs are long gone
New buds stretch to probe the air
For a larger share of the sun
Jostling and refusing to share

The evening cools with shades
Of green growing richer by the minute
Wild roses close, to rest,
Still, saving up tomorrow's scent

The sky is a deeper blue
Daily sunsets later, slow-dimmed light
And yet the mornings come earlier
Than our whispered "good nights"

6/10/18

The fourth in a series, it seems:
March Snow
Cold April
May Flowers

Wet July