Summer Classes; Summer Heat

The morning breaks on York’s gray stone,
Before the shadows find their hold.
A blinding glare on glass and steel,
As summer makes the campus reel.

The asphalt shimmers, heat ascends,
Where river haze and skyline blend.
Past Weill Cornell’s historic halls,
The heavy glare of summer falls.

The plaza wilts, the scrub-clad crowd
Escapes the pavement, fierce and proud.
We seek the chill of frosted glass,
Where air-conditioned shadows pass.

And as the copper sun declines,
On East Side towers and neon lines,
A day of fire, fierce and deep,
That breathes its warmth into our sleep.