Comment on the Weather

The moon is on her journey south again,
in the middle of the valley again.
It's a cold August and the birds are loud --

When did the summer pass?

I should make a choice or two. The options are
thin. I thought I had more of them.

I'm thinking tonight that it doesn't matter if I don't choose soon; it will come soon enough,
the consequence.

I can squander some clock time,
admire the moon rhyme
hold myself back tonight.