The asparagus is left to sprout fern.

Cicadae sing at my window with that “Beanher erh eent errrrh err er.”

When I lower the mower blade to level three.

The creeper hugs our home, reminding us that this is the year to cut back.

Tuxedo-coated animals will roll in dirt just to get a break.

When riding backseat to the dog with its drooling head out the window doesn’t bother me.

The creek cracks red, whilst steeping streams prepare muddy tea.

Bolting lemon balm, carrots, and leafy greens go to seed.

When it’s just too much effort to put on socks or anything at all.

The night blinks of clear skies, lightning bugs, and moonlight.

Milkweed pride spreads its wings for those colorful butterflies.

When the berries have all bloomed out and hide their fruits from pecking birds.