Not a Whit
The sun is warm;
The air is cold.
I didn’t care
‘Til I got old.
And now, although
Today it’s spring,
I miss the scarf
I didn’t bring.
Yet I’ll stay out
And soak some rays,
Remembering
My younger days
When cold concerned me
Not a whit,
‘Cause on a bench
I’d never sit.
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