Saturday, August 31, 2013

Labor Day Sonnet

By thunder struck, as if a noise sufficed
to make you lose your balance, or your place -
and no one said, “Alas! By lightning spliced!” –
Whence comes the graceless grimace to your face?
How is it that so amiable a slug
Is fretful on this lazy day? Absurd!
Yon sheep, that greeted butchers with a shrug,
Is made egregious by discouraging words?
I watched you through the summer days, agog
That anyone could be so bloody dull:
Now comes September, and you catalogue
The things you wish to do before the fall!
When you behave as if you are aflame,
It means that Labor Day is come again.

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