However, the temperature dropped by several degrees today, so at least I get to deal with the frustration in a more pleasant atmosphere. On the dismal side (isn't there always a dismal side?), the nights for watching the meteors are probably going to be chilly, and this afternoon there were quite a few clouds. If the meteors get hidden by clouds I'm going to be so pissed!. But it's a whole week before the peak of the shower so I'd probably best not get my shorts in a wad just yet.
Meantime, here's this:
Sunday Verse
Late September
by Charles Simic
The mail truck goes down the coast
Carrying a single letter.
At the end of a long pier
The bored seagull lifts a leg now and then
And forgets to put it down.
There is a menace in the air
Of tragedies in the making.
Last night you thought you heard television
In the house next door.
You were sure it was some new
Horror they were reporting,
So you went out to find out.
Barefoot, wearing just shorts.
It was only the sea sounding weary
After so many lifetimes
Of pretending to be rushing off somewhere
And never getting anywhere.
This morning, it felt like Sunday.
The heavens did their part
By casting no shadow along the boardwalk
Or the row of vacant cottages,
Among them a small church
With a dozen gray tombstones huddled close
As if they, too, had the shivers.
