These stormy dogs
Washed up
Tongues out, frozen in some euphoric grin
Sprawled and spaced out going over everything they can!
the sun in little pockets beats through the chinks
The happy space created by the breeze through the blinds.
The lulling hush of the summer afternoon sneaking into the room
Making it sway with subtle hints that there is another world outside.
Mouths dry, a coil, the serpentine hissing of stale breath
But that grin still there with no trace of malice
Silly and stupified they stir
These summer dogs dreaming
Waiting for the minty chammoile whisper in those long evenings
When they parade through parks to the small town
the royalty arriving on the crest of the moon
Tumbling one over the other in the haste to get through the doors
That swing open for them every night
And spilling out again only to run through the same hills
And roam through trees brushing past old loves and finding new ones in the shadows
All their hearts racing chasing this all-new brilliant experience
that  teaches them, scorns them, allows them to drift apart
And blissfully oblivious they change under the soluble moon
Shedding skin like falling leaves and streaming through the haze.
A subtle change in direction each with their own breeze...