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July (Poem)

July is the early morning reflection of the morning sun over the crystal clear waters,

while you sit in silence on your front porch

listening to the larks sing to you.

It's the mornings where everything comes alive,

as each blade of grass awakes from their slumber,

knowing that you are present even when you are merely peering from your bedroom window.

July is the already prepared backpack with your favorite bottle of water,

waiting for the day's adventure,

as you lurk around the golden hour halls of your home.

It is plants in the corner of your home that are begging for the stream of sun

to grace them with its presence,

as the sound of gentle beats from the alarm clock fill the once silent halls.

July is your favorite hiking boots that are covered in mud,

the ones that you always go to when the moment comes.

It is crazy rides down the back roads with your friends,

as you blare the radio up

not caring who hears.

July is here, yet, it is almost gone,

till next year when it makes its appearance,

so, as we sing along with the melody that belongs only to the month,

we must learn to cherish it

and welcome whatever comes next.

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