in the heat of summer

My friend, I am going to tell you the story of my life, as you wish; and if it were only the story of my life I think I would not tell it; for what is one man that he should make much of his winters, even when they bend him like a heavy snow? – Black Elk

Oh,
in the heat of the summer
how I long for the snow.
Rise in temperature’s number
and warm winds blow.

I must remember this,
when the snows do arrive.
That I longed for its kiss,
in the heat to revive.

For there is no summer,
without the winter’s snows.
Whether early or latecomer,
when the warm wind blows.

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