First day of July—
 
a hawk’s terrifying cry
 
frightens wrens nearby.

 
 
 

As July winds down,
 
the husband of a friend dies
 
unexpectedly.

 
 
 

As July winds down,
 
the stone Buddha’s lap fills up
 
with empty wind songs.

 
 
 

Deep summer longing:
 
to see morning glories bloom
 
before July ends.

 
 
 

July’s last morning—
 
sunflowers near the red fence
 
raise their golden heads.

 
 
 

Heat wave in July—
 
I remember cooler days
 
and white plum blossoms.

Longing

 
 
 

last day of July—
 
longing for all the melons
 
that I did not plant

Shadows

 
 
 

first week of July—
 
shadows from the almond tree
 
settle in my lap