

Spotted
robins.
Three of them.
Young ones, for sure.
Fledglings, nestlings,
constant feedings.
Papa Robin worn thin, too worn for singing.
Evening songs competing
with cicadas
and crickets.
Ribbits.
When did that happen?
You know, Summer running up ahead,
glancing back. And that snotty grin?
Summer’s promise, the long days of june.
Done
And
Done.
Ahh ….
Spotted
lady,
painted bright and new as spring.
Me? I’m whining and lamenting
where this weird old summer’s going.
photographs from july 25, 2020

Holy cats, that poem sure nails it.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks!
LikeLike
Cute little lady!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you! Yes, I think she is. Although it occurred to me there must be male ladybugs.
LikeLike
Gentlemenbugs?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why, yes. Of course! (that made me smile…it’s good to smile these days)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Here in Southern California we’re going to have the very hot days of July and August. Keep cool.
Art
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. You too.
LikeLike
Beautiful photos, and I love the poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely ladybugs! That is a beautiful poem 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person