July 17th

When emerald meets hazel, and
Two rose petals part to allow
A puff of heated air in attempt

To regain the fluttering

Humming. That bird, its cage of ribs

Halting any chance of escape, instead

It must calm. Though it keeps moving as
Time stands still.

One wreathed in fire, the other
Haloed in gold as white brushes
Over tender greens and a melody of

Campanulas^* gives us canon

In D major.

Silk on skin as fingers

Brush and a blush
Heats the collar of a nervous bird
As he struggles with his sky colored tie.

He flutters his wings to air out
on the breeze, the same that ruffles
the petals of his flower as she tries
to smooth the tangle of spun gold, dressed up.

The bird and his flower, they face
he pecks a kiss on trembling petal lips
though he wants to fly her away,
she's rooted.

He'll stay for her, hunker down,
enjoy his first winter in snow.
Though warmer weather might feel better,
He'd rather—
much rather—stay home.