About those ancient peoples now dead
Who worshiped the skies over head
In this era of innovation
And technological sensations
Still subject are we to sun’s diction
As our world tilts in to hug the sun
We splash and soak with strangers, how fun!
Daring to do what’s never been done
Then shy away, and leaves become crisp
We settle down to seriousness
Pumpkin spice time to pair off in bliss
Move farther away and we get cold
Men’s hearts doth fail them as was foretold
So we cling and each other enfold
Fresh air, birds sing, and we start to come out
Time for plants and ideas to sprout
Get rid of those connections we doubt
And thus the sun has power to sway
Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring, AKA
Novel, Cuffing, Comfort, and then Stray
Why were we just another cliche?
Why clean me away? Why not just stay?
Easier to believe it was the old Sun God who had the final say
--Olivia F., Adult