© July 11, 1986 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. | All Rights Reserved

A winter without the snow
A summer without the heat
A spring without the cold
An autumn with leaves on trees
All without a reason
A cycle for the year
Are they errors of the seasons?
Or is the end drawing near.

A story without a moral
A poem without a rhyme
A critic with no editorial
A joke that hadn’t a punch line
All without a reason
The people can’t even laugh
Are these acts of treason?
Or foreshadowing the aftermath

A flower that has no floral
The plant that isn’t green
The reef without it’s coral
All that hasn’t been seen
All without a reason
Proven without a doubt
These cycles aren’t of season
They’ll just short and stout

An audio without an oral
A video without a screen
Multiples without their plural
Closed eyes without a dream
All without a reason
But the truth is yet to come
Can’t add without adhesion
So this end is the tally of my sum.