Morning Exercise

Out for a walk, sometimes slow-jog, on a pre-hot July morning,
The park is populated with roses, mostly wishing it was back in May,
And dazed-looking, pajama-clad denizens, who jerk-stop with scant warning,
Because the dogs, who drag them along, like to do it for play...

And the cars whoosh-by, too-urgent, metallic and swarming,

Past the army of cicadas who've waited beneath, 7 years, for this day.