this same sky. this same
half
sun,
peeking out,
waiting
for July, we sit and watch
what comes
up the path,
who passes
us by.
what woods are these
we come upon,
this not quite
green
surprise?
the lake is full of ducks,
despite
the calendar.
we've walked
far enough
in this city.
let's rest here for a while.
no rush.
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