-------------------------
January is an adopted taste,
Out of its confines no path seems to lead.
Heat dies on your bathroom window,
Not able to resist at all.
Jousting in a hardened hollow two leaves
Outrage each other in a gust of wind:How easy, though, to hug your knees
Nattering away by the fire.
Just as though it were summer I tramp out
Over the Downs for an afternoon walk,
Hair plastered by cold on my brow.
Now is the best time. Always. Now.
====================
© November 1981