Sixty-five Degrees

February should be cold,
Not sixty-five degrees.
I sweated in my jacket when
In past years I would freeze.

I shouldn’t be complaining
For the temperatures will drop,
But all this fluctuation’s crazy –
Will it ever stop?

Last week I dressed in layers;
Today just one sufficed.
In two days’ time the puddles
And the roads will all be iced.

I miss the times when calendars
Could pretty much predict
The weather, which would match the clothes
The night before I’d picked.