JULY NOW
July now, and high summer days lay upon us.
In hedgerows the field maples smoulder a new red.
All the greens, more tentative now, tinted with heat and dust,
Weighed down by a glowing heavy sun.
The rivers are low and silent, bleached rocks butter-smooth.
Merciless will be the shadeless hills, growing pale and dry.
We seek the cooler air of woodlands
And walk out at evening with lullaby thought.
The nodding grasses, ripe and swaying,
And a full moon, crisp in a blameless sky.
simonhlilly 
You’re clearly having “better” weather than we are. 🙂 Assuming this is a real-time piece.
Sort of,…conflation of a few days recently, and the blurring of memory with observation…usual poet stuff…
There is nothing “usual” about your beautiful poetry, Simon.