Forty degrees seems like eighty in winter
When the sun is only warm behind closed doors
And we kid ourselves into thinking
That maybe tomorrow will be
More hospitable than today
A rainless day is miraculous in spring
When the storm clouds pelt Earth with drops of Heaven
And we sigh as we keep saying
That maybe tomorrow will be
A little dryer than today
A shady spot seems like an oasis in summer
When the sun beats angrilly on brown grass
And we keep on hoping
That maybe tomorrow will be
A bit cooler than today
The world is perfect in autumn
When the leaves are bright and it's neither too cold nor wet nor warm
And we sit round a bon-fire, knowing
That tomorrow could never be
Any better than today.
T.M.
Copyright ©2004 Traite Malone