Why do seasons always feel so long?
We long for summer when the winter's cold
Rattles our teeth in unharmonious song,
But when the summer's humid waves unfold
Onto our skins, we wish again for ice,
And claim we hardly mind the freezing blasts
That tickle us in winter. They felt nice,
We say, and weep that endless summer lasts
As if it meant to boil us away.
Spring and fall, by contrast, do not linger,
But seem to hide, and let the others play,
So that the tip of winter's freezing finger
Touches the back of summer in mid-May
And in October, it's the other way.
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