They don’t have winter here.
Well, I guess they technically do.
It’s not cold, though, so it
doesn’t feel like winter.

No blanket of fresh, sparkling white snow
on Christmas morning. Just light
brown sand. Palm trees instead
of pine trees. Not even decorated right.

No Frosty the Snowmen or couples holding
hands on ice-skating rinks. All they have
Here are puddles. No snuggling up with a fleece
blanket by the fireplace drinking a cup

of hot chocolate. Everyone here likes
ice cream. And surfing. No toddlers in
puffy marshmallow jackets. Just tourists
in swimsuits. I miss winter.
December doesn’t mean winter anymore.