It gets old (and cold)
     Day after day after day
     Of December in May.

I pull out T-shirts 
     And short-sleeved shirts
     Even my white shorts.

I wish it were sunnier
     Praying for warmer
     Still dreaming of summer. 

We greet on the street
     All the bundled folk
     That we meet.

"How do you like this winter?"
     We say
     Even though it's May.

You have to laugh
     Against the chill
     In this December still.

But I thought just today
     I'm in my favorite place
     To live in May.

If you don't like the weather
     Try to think of a place
     That's really much better.