The Sun, a Wolf

Burn the day away July,

Throw it in the backwoods pile.

Leaves of green and grass of hay,

Remember how it made you smile.

And I hope it stays a while.

Today I am a runner wild,

Lungs a lavender textile,

The sun a wolf upon my back,

That’s singing to a tiny moon you’re throwing as it’s barking past,

then rolling in the fresh cut grass.

A tiny moon upon my wrist,

A quarter past,

And I forgive.

The Forever that I know is a good feeling,

But you never know, sometimes I can’t even explain what I’m perceiving.

Burn the day away July,

Throw it in the backwoods pile,

Leaves of green and grass of hay,

Remember how it made you smile.

And I hope it stays a while.