The snow is waiting in the clouds;
The
day is raw and bleak
While
in Australia, there are crowds
In
sunshine, all this week.
I
bundle up when I go out,
The
coming storm a threat,
Yet
tennis players run about
In
Melbourne, dripping sweat.
It’s
strange the way the earth revolves
And
how the seasons flip.
In
half the world, the ice dissolves;
The
rest’s in winter’s grip.
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