If you're used to...

If you're used to wintry days
With the grey, gloomy sky above
And the blinding whiteness of snow below,
The gentleness of powdery, fluffy snowflakes
That swirl with the chinook,
Like a whisper from the great Rockies,
The weight of granular flakes
That melt as they land on your nose
And pack on the road,
Into a cycle of melting and refreezing.
Or the danger of a snow slab,
An immortalizing avalanche...

If you're used to wintry days
With your heavy clothing and breathing,
Not to mention your nose running,
Your boots either "slip, slip, sliding"
Or dig, dig, dimming your chances
Of getting anywhere on time.
And the same go with your tires
As they slip, slip, slither like snakes
Or dig, dig, devilishly screaming for help
So to the rescue you go with your shovel...

If you're used to wintry days,
A day of sunshine is equally blinding
You need your dark shades and hat,
Suntan lotion and deodorant,
(Though not necessarily in that order.)
And you complain about the heat
And your seemingly smelly, sweaty feeling
So you wish for your wintry days back
Which come anyway be it spring, summer or fall
And you're really, really glad...
... if you're used to wintry days.
04/08/2010