Ode to the Crape Myrtle: I think that I shall never see Anything quite so lo-ve-ly A tree that blooms while we sweat And summer isn’t here yet. A bush that looks Like a bouquet To make us forget That one day It will be hot And hot And hotter. Better pray for rain So we don’t have to water. [The end.] And the end of spring. And the beginning of summer. Next Monday. One season ends. Another begins. As the saying goes: “When one door closes, A window opens.” Which doesn’t make sense. Why ...