Never Really Knowing
Depending on the place you live,
The weather’s warm or cold.
Perhaps that’s why you moved there;
It’s the picture you’ve been sold.
But Mother Nature’s in control
And likes to mess around,
So conditions you’d expected
Might not be what you have found.
In the south they’re wearing sweaters
And the west is fighting fires,
Maybe changing someone’s mind of
Where to go when one retires.
Meanwhile, I adjust my wardrobe,
Wearing layers I can shed,
Never really knowing what will be
In days that lie ahead.
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