Oak Canopy

On this day, everyone but me sleeps in.   It's the middle of the summer and the morning after a full moon.  Even the dog can't be bothered to crawl out of the little pile of dirty clothes on the floor to rumble down the stairs and watch squirrels gather endless acorns. That old dog snores when she sleeps but the children just breath quiet, deep sleep.  For after visiting Grandma and eating iced cream last night, we stood on the side-walk, leaning this way and that, peering through the oak leaves, howling at the midsummer moon.