Darkened sky, brisk air; cool breezes chill the arms bare, ruffle my summer wear. Dusk so soon I am not aware. A year passes a blink of an eye; a day goes by before I could sigh. Chores I can't simplify; Do it or not do it, either can satisfy. Honest toil is something, or much ado about nothing? Depends on who you ask: existentialist, Buddhist, or moralist. It's Monday. That's why I stray and fray. A bad poem a day will drive the gloom away.