The Haze

On hazy, hot, and muggy days, I groan
Each time I see the sun. But when it burns
May I complain, and whine, and sweat, and moan
Beneath it? Haze or sun, I must not spurn.

On drizzly days, so damp and gray, I shriek,
“Ridiculous! I hate the mist, I hate
The wet; if you must rain, start raining, sneak!
Let rain pour down and calm our soggy state.”

In thunderstorms, I sprint to class. The light
Is gone. Can’t I just pass? I want to sleep,
Not dodge the crack and flash of lightning bright!
The rain falls wild; the thunder rends the keep.

A many-jeweled necklace in the skies—
“A rainbow must have rain,” I realize.

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