For all of our existence, this moment has been significant. The sun, moving southward, now responds to our trepidations and our fears, and stops in its tracks.
And tomorrow, it will begin moving back into the warming configuration we so desire.
We really should celebrate this in some manner ...
.
Discomfort
The warming sun is sleeping late,
The chill of darkness lingers.
Without my cup to keep them warm,
I blow upon my fingers.
I stand out on the waiting spot,
Bus timing is a puzzle.
Of late the morning dew has grown,
Some white around its muzzle.
Some weeks ago I sought the shade,
As sunshine made me suffer.
Today the shade seeks me instead,
What warmth have I to offer?
The warning comes in by degrees,
Soon Winter rules the land.
Discomfort would be welcome when,
I take my life in hand.
I half expect in Spring they might,
Discover that my statue,
Is only some poor rigid fool,
Flash frozen in his achoo!
NicknamedBob . . . . September 28, 2007
Nice!