It is the solstice of summer- The once-wan days now carry on them A well-worn tan; the haggard, quiet summer- An unprecedented affair- bids to bid its final adieu. No smoldering sun having dappled on human skin, No sunscreens applied nor shades and akin- Summer heat scorched some denizens of the undergrowth- And allowed the marble, granite, iron, copper, cement To sunbathe, unwatched. That was the Sun's Only achievement- and so watch the summer, wry and wistful, Say goodbye with a troubled heart. Well enough, the summer has closed, To pass the baton to the cold, confident monsoon. Watch crimson leaves being swept off the trees- Roots are torn off the damp soil, waxy upper coverings, Are molted off plant skins. There is a lot of noise, But the fact remains that the chaos is gone. No umbrellas dotting the sidewalk, no mackintoshes fluttering In the damp wind- no puddles being splashed in by busy adults Driving their serrated tyres to cross and dot each playful puddle- No...