I always enjoy January's end
The light returns, though the cold wind persists
Light and temperature may be on the mend
But let's not expect a summer sun-kissed
Such things are long gone, and so sadly missed
All we have to look forward to is rain
Yes, the same thing we had as autumn mist
That soaked the land, killed crops and flooded drains
For the foreseeable, the rain remains
All we have as it warms over the pond
Produces cumulus to get us pissed
Off and pissed on. Don't wonder at our groans
Would going abroad be some kind of end?
Yet somehow, I think this place would be missed
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