In the biting dark months
As our world is slowly but surely
Consumed by falling white
Days of blankets and coats
And prisoners to the storms

We look fondly back upon
The warm months just departed
Wishing to live in that past

And when we finally arrive
Endured and triumphed

We stare with distaste
At a circle, casting down
Not gentle warm
But suddenly malicious
Scorching, burning

We look fondly back upon
A relieving breeze
To cool the burning skin

And so we will ourselves
Happiness, contentment
Chasing, but it always outruns
Such longing hands

We are always wanting

In the cold
For the warmth of the sun

In the heat
For the chill of the wind

Satiability, unattainable