I don’t know the snow
I know how to balance on the jagged edges of tide pools
My skin burns as it dries leaving hints of salt
My feet dust trails of sand behind their steps
I know the squabbling gulls and laugh with their banter
My eyes squint while watching the sunlight sparkle along the pulsing waves
My hair blows around my face like thousands of erupting solar flares
This is my winter in the hot winds that feel out of season
The winds that carry the monarchs that should be wintering in the groves
It seems it’s always summer here
Like childhood memories of building sandcastles with bright buckets and shovels
And splashing in the surf without going out too deep
The seasons forgot their dance here
Fall and winter can be so indolent under the heat of the midday sun
Languid and stretched out on the sand until a strong gust carries them away
Though, maybe we are the ones who forgot
The baptism of amber leaves falling with the rain or
The communion of the kiss of a snowflake melting on the tongue
Perhaps we forgot the holiness innate in nature’s rituals of change
Whilst we were contented by the lulling sea’s song
Low and high tide became our solstice and equinox
Shifting sand became our hourglass
Nonetheless, the nature of change knows us
