July in Glendale


Drawing by Molly Bomar

Molly Bomar, Journalist

A little poem looking forward to the deep and heavy summer ahead:


The sun is pounding the cement in Glendale.

Palms sway gracefully to a silent, unheard anthem; their leaves dancing.

With few window open,

most shutters are closed to keep out the scorching July heat.

Even in the covered shade the summer air is thick with a dream-like haze.

After the burning sun drips below the horizon,

a pink blanket covers the homes filled with restless children.

A sherbet color paints the sky.

Doors are thrown open and a warm breeze flutters into the curtains like a long lost friend.

Shadows follow bare feet as they dance around in the street,

never-ending glee and joy echo between the mountains.

Laying down on the cool grass,

the stars against the purple sky are droplets of honey.

Eyes slowly drop and close, 

the air complete with euphoria.