In the Morning

The sun has come to rest; 

The day has all but ended.

And laughter speaks of zest 

And spring’s last day impended. 

Furniture fills the hall 

As my hall mates start to clean, 

And talk of the next fall 

 And the year that had just been. 

The rooms look so empty 

As college boys come and go 

And say with somber glee, 

“See you next semester, bro.” 

But while spring’s end can’t be glummer, 

In the morning starts the summer.

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