It didn't matter

that the bird

survived.

It didn't matter

that the council

drained the lake.

The long

summer

never actually

arrived.

The blue sky

eventually went

and lived else-

where.

I asked the dog

why you were

so sad. Was told

that you always

hated July. Something

about the coldness,

and so

always having to hold

on to the

warmest parts

of each other.