Time hurries on

The air is pregnant with Toricelli’s child

And suntouched white lilies dot I’s on the lake

As I sit, alone, on the shore

And envy the young mother mallard

Who glides on its deep, green depths

All among a million waterstars;

And it begins to rain.

When I remember summer, I dream of

Cattails, exploding in its last leg;

Harvest; and, yet, the first sign

Of Fall.  Oh, and cool, long grasses

Beside the muckfields, where we lay at dusk

And waited, searching the sky, to see

Who could sight the first star,

Before the clouds rolled in.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Not a very serious attempt.  Toricelli refers to Evangelista Bautista Torricelli, who discovered air pressure.

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