Stomping in the puddles, soaked through my socks
The chill of wind that cuts right through my bones
A break in the clouds my spirit it mocks
Dreary weather, public complains and moans

Lack of city snowfall, lacks wintry vibe
No snowmen, no snow angels, no sledding
Maybe this is an excuse to imbibe
No Asian blush, so my face not redding

But sun’s return is not without fault too
Mercury rises and heatwave ensues
“It is too hot,” we say. “What can we do?”
Lesser of several evils we must choose

      Whether basking in rain or the sun’s rays
      Your life, right now, these are the good old days