i'll speak of
the f a l l
   if i must.
i can get on board
  with
crispness...
  beautiful
warm shades
   of orange, red,
and yellow.
i can even
   appreciate a
new sweater,
  the feel of my
my skin being
covered instead
   of revealed.

i will not
speak
   of the winter
every year
i ask myself
    if i will make it
through this winter
all year i feel
it retreating and
gaining on me
the gloom of the
   sunless sky
the dead
   s n o w l e s s
ground
  void of color,
life.
    frigid cold
treacherous roads
miserable gloom
   sun
   sun
   sun
where have you gone?
i have no love
   for the cold
i am a daughter of sol

i will even
  speak of the spring
if i must
     it is nice
hearing the birds
  seeing new blooms
but i want
to be in the g r i p
of the sun
blazing glory
of luminous rays
   summer
is my home

so do not
ask me to speak
of the coming
winter
because i will not.
i will not speak
of the pressing anxiety
my secret murmurings
to the sun
to make an
exception
and remain
triumphant in the
sky for me.

no.
of the winter
i will not speak.