A Gift from the South
Seven degrees outside. How can it be
that clouds float northwards? It’s not arctic air
that’s passing through. So then, is it the rare
Antarctic breath unwarmed by tropic sea,
though summer rules the south? Can that account
for such a strange occurrence? “Frigid breezes,”
declares the weatherman between his sneezes,
“up from the gulf …” Well, damn! (for no amount
of sympathy can cheer us). But reflect,
and don’t surrender yet to dark despair:
the season’s barely underway down there—
which gives us valid reason to suspect
increasing daylight soon will bring the heat
to those who dwell south of our globe’s equator;
and while they roast in that incinerator,
all here will hail the end of ice and sleet.
Julian D. Woodruff writes poetry and short fiction for children and adults. He recently finished 2020-2021, a poetry collection. A selection of his work can be read at Parody Poetry, Lighten Up Online, Carmina Magazine, and Reedsy.
Julian, the temperature here in Texas on New Year’s Day will reach 75 degrees and it will be in the low 80’s several days this first week of January. There was a brief two-day spurt of colder temperatures, but December was mild, if not balmy. I loved your thought and rhyming of “equator” and “incinerator.” May you have a warm and Happy New Year!
Thanks, Roy. I’ve spent very little time in Texas, but 3 trips to Florida have taught me that your characterization of this year’s Texas winter is accurate (at least for a large swath of a very large state). Here in Toronto, a Happy New Year (for me) has begun. A warm one will have to wait.
Strangely enough, 18 degrees above the equator, hee in Mauritania, October / November were the hottest months of the year, though after a short cool spell we do seem to be warming up again. I guess just like you’re affected by the Gulf of Mexico and the Arctic, we have the Atlantic Ocean and the Sahara Desert competing to dominate weather patterns.
A poem to warm every weather-obsessed Brit’s heart, Julian. Thanks for the read.
Thanks for reading, Paul. Just now Mauritania (at least on the coast) sounds pretty good to this resident of Toronto, who just lost a pair of knitted gloves.
The world is ever attempting to reach thermodynamic equilibrium, which is why there is any weather at all. Fair weather friends are the best friends to have. In the end, everything averages out.
Thanks, CB. I hope by “fair weather friends” you mean those with whom all weather seems fair–i.e., warm & likely sunny. I was just a while ago working on a poetic memory of a friend whose favorite New Year’s activity was to rush out into the streets of Chicago or Milwaukee (whichever of the 2 he happened to be visiting) at precisely midnight January 1st, and shout repeatedly “HAP-py New Year!” Definitely the type.
Julian, I just love the way you turn the “dark despair” of a northern winter into a positive as those lucky enough to have a mild winter will soon be roasting in summer’s incinerator as the North thaws nicely. Thank goodness for the reciprocal relationship between winter and summer across the hemispheres… a phrase that applies to England, but seems to elude the wild and wacky nature of Texas weather. Thank you for this fun poem!
Thank you, Susan. Your comment reminds me of 2 things. 1) This poem is unintentionally a companion piece to another of mine posted here last March celebrating the equinox. 2) Your reference to English weather reminds me of “A Song of the Weather,” by Flanders and Swan (“In July the sun is hot. Is it shining? No, it’s not.”) If you don’t know it, check it out.
Julian, I checked out “A Song of the Weather,” by Flanders and Swan last night, and loved every amusing, musical minute of it. It transported me straight back to my rainy homeland with my umbrella held high. Thank you!! I brought my favorite umbrella to Texas. During the first demon of a downpour, the wicked Texas “breeze” blew my brolly inside-out and swept me to a soaking to the skin. I don’t carry one now… it’s a silly habit I’ve been forced to give up.
Susan,
What would all those umbrella-armed nannies from Mary Poppins do in your neck of the woods??
The season’s isn’t over here, and you’ve given us good reason to hail its mystery with more good cheer. Merry Christmas, Julian!
“increasing daylight soon will bring the heat
to those who dwell south of our globe’s equator;
and while they roast in that incinerator,
all here will hail the end of ice and sleet.”
this stanza caused me to see the connection between the Arts and Sciences. Thanks Julian.
I enjoy the internal speculation given in verse form here (the Chicago weatherman is an apt illustration for the fickle weather you describe). A very nice play on “hail” in the final line, too.