Listen to poem:
Thrill of Late Summer
Lying in between seasons is a pause,
To look at what's gone on, what's to become.
In Fall, dreading Summer's last curtain call.
In Spring, vaulting to cheer Winter's demise.
The quad-cycle ride brings its surprises.
It taunts, haunts with clockwork compromises-
When we wake up before the alarm sounds,
Or press snooze, to linger on dreams instead.
Drowning the questions never posed nor asked,
Of why shadows shrink when midday is poised.
Or why they're seen at night when sun has flown.
Who steers this whim and flit of sun's time-span?
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