Never have I asked an August sky, Where has last July gone?

Never have I wandered through the rye, wondering where has some guy gone

I had to throw in the next line just because I love the rhyme of “guy gone" with “July gone," though it has absolutely no relevance to the photo at hand.

Which depicts some fun futuristic porthole windows on Ninth Avenue, against the brilliant backdrop of one of those aforementioned August skies.