Late July

The air is hot.

Still, recent rain retains the greenness of the place.

The red clover carpets the pastures, offering nectar to those which seek it.

Black-eyed Susans burst proudly upwards towards the sun

While butterflies flit about the wild flowers

And fly catchers perch in stillness before nabbing their next meal.

This is summer in my world.

Poem – to Robert. I love you.

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