“The sun is not rising, as it will soon be, a polar night ” Gun Roswell

Early autumn morning in Suburbia

Early, before the sunrise, alas today, it wasn’t going to smile
The cloud covered, grey and dark in coloured, low hanging skies
Were preparing, for the upon coming time, that of the polar nights

“But, it was just summer!”
Someone prompted like it was a bummer

“Yeah, and soon we will have snow”
The other piled on quickly in the other ones tow

“Quit yammering about the weather you two,
Because soon, it will be too dark and too cold
To even dare to step out from the home old!”
The third ones comment, surely shut their mouths

But whether the weather, was the topic or not
This time of the year, was always, welcomed with a scoff
As slumbering into darkness, was no way to get off

The difference at this time, between night and day
Was hardly visible, to the beady eyes now slain
By the blurred visions, from too long indoors staying

Only the cloudy and grey skies outside remained
And even those ones, who would like to complain
Had to admit, that it was cozy, inside their own domains

After all, this was a yearly thing in stall
For all those small dwellers, up the far north
Pending their time, before the coming of
Some other type of seasonal weather
But that was a topic, after this time, of fall