late morning, atlanta

with morning now moving to end
and the sun at its highest in the sky
the moment itself seems to lend
an impulse to smile and to cry

the day is no longer as torrid
as it was yesterday or before
the weather no longer as horrid
it's rained just enough and no more

the thought that just barely i form
about what i intend in this life
is a standard deviation from norm
and thus no reason for any strife

the sonnet just stays in right rhyme
as the clock keeps announcing right time