My July

The warmth kisses the buzzing bugs,
The sky is bluer than the ocean’s hue,
The nation turns yet another year older.
This time of year, all is golden
In the summer, things tend to mold,
Love, freedom, and smiles unfold.
Beautiful colors paint the night’s canvas,
All eyes watch the lights fly,
The taste of firecrackers lingers in my mouth,
Humidity runs its fingers through my hair.
I let out a sad sigh
as the warmth of July
kisses me goodbye.





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