December

The twelfth and final month

Those days that make me yearn for my puddle soaked, mud covered, numbingly cold homeland.

The sun is beating down in Southern Hemisphere:

Desert instead of snow,

Ocean in place of ice,

So many would love to be surrounded by so much warmth

And yet it all feels so wrong.

I see cards decorated with snowflakes and dancing polar bears,

And yet

It‘s all a lie

It’s forty degrees and the sweat is dripping down my knees

My complexion has always been one step away from snow

But this is a step to far

I’ve turned into a real life snowman

And no amount of festive cheer can convince me that melting in the sun is the way to spend Christmas