The sun rose
While singing a familiar tune,
It hung in the sky
But it rose far too soon.
As the day wore on
It held firm and steady,
People looked around
For night they were ready.
The sun stayed still
Without showing much remorse,
This stubborn fire
Wouldn't veer off its course.
Go down it would not
Move left it refused,
Tonight there will be light,
Or whatever the sun may choose.
Nice work. I especially like 'stubborn fire'. We totally get the cold shoulder from the sun this time of year and your poem made me jealous of those living within its words.
ReplyDeleteGladwell, eh?
ReplyDeletePMM - Outliers is fascinating. Then again, I was a psychology major, so I'm easily entranced by Gladwell's work. The studies, trends, statistics, overwhelming coincidences, it all speaks to me.
ReplyDeleteYou do poetry too? Awesome!
ReplyDelete