The sky is brighter than it ought to be;
Days like today demand a cloud and rain
To show the weather in more honesty
For cold despite the sunlight will cause pain.
The secret chill behind the sunny air
Is hard to recognize when we look out
But when we saunter hopefully out there
The prickles of our goosebumps leave no doubt
Telling us the sun has once again
Lied to our faces, seeming warm and bright
And beckoning out to us in the form
Of summer, when it should be winter's night.
I cannot blame the sunshine, though, because
It prompts me to remember warmth that was.
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