A Sonnet for The Solstice

Here we are at winter's solstice
where it's tough to stay warm and dry.
Yet some things from summer I will not miss
such as the lazy bumble fly.

Or excessive auto exhaust.
Or thorns on blackberry vines.
And roadkill, by Goodyear tire embossed,
whereon that bumble fly dines.

Such scenes on hot August asphalt
make summer such a wretched thing,
like that whole humidity gestalt
with all of its hidrosis cling!

     The best time on the calendar, or clocks,
     is either one, or the other...equinox!