In the Shade

The sun is warm and golden, Beaming down on hill and glade; But I’m shivering inside because I’m sitting in the shade. Every sunny bench is taken So I’m perched within the gray. I’m a prisoner of shadows, Though I’m free to walk away. Still, the sun slides through the heavens And the shadows stretch and move. I’ll remain where I’m reposing, Like I’ve got something to prove. In an hour, give or take, I think my bench will catch some rays; But until that time arrives I’m in a goosebump-making phase. It’s a fool who waits for something That is not in her control, For the wiser person knows Anticipation takes its toll.