It's fall.  Nighttime temps have actually dipped in the upper 40s.  Hence the poetry.  It is a reaction I always have to this time of year.  A good pumpkin spice coffee, a bubble bath and a poem.  Good things.  Here's a poem that Kathryn's memorizing for school.  She particularly likes this one, and so do I. 

Afternoon on a Hill

 Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1892 - 1950

 

I will be the gladdest thing  
    Under the sun!  
I will touch a hundred flowers  
    And not pick one.  
  
I will look at cliffs and clouds
    With quiet eyes,  
Watch the wind bow down the grass,  
    And the grass rise.  
  
And when lights begin to show  
    Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,  
    And then start down!

(*photo from www.sceptretours.com)