Overtones of summer

Suddenly it is 85 degrees outside.  The Rule of 140 is of more than academic interest.  Larsen and I played a little yesterday evening, and he soon found himself nosing around for some ice water and lying on the cool hearth in the family room.  Spring, with tones of idle summer.

Summer in the South
 The Oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from hoods of green,
Timid, and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run made with riot.


Paul Laurence Dunbar
(Dunbar was born in Dayton Ohio, and a high school, Dayton Dunbar, named after the poet always fields a great basketball team.)