It’s nearly middle June when Zephyrus stirs,
exuding coastal mist at dawn and night,
exhaling onshore breezes. Now occurs
our comic season: long in golden light
but short on heat, mosquitoes, thunderstorms.
There’s wind upon my face when I face west;
our hemisphere is ratcheting to warm,
but here we’re chill in several layers dressed.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’ll gladly give a starscape for this air.
It costs, but I’m out walking every day,
and though I can’t go sleeveless, I don’t care
as long as I’ve this wind against my throat,
for Zephyr’s kiss is slumber’s antidote.

This entry was posted in Poetry, Weather. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s