Icy Summers

She was summer

Light and carefree,

I was winter

Dark and gloomy.

She is always joyful

She is always gay,

I am always mournful

I am always gray.

She quicksteps with the sun

While I waltz with the moon,

She is graceful like the wind

While I am a great buffoon.

We met when we were seven

Over simple child’s play,

When we had things in common

And we have been friends to this day.

However, time and time again

I think of how summer’s breeze,

Is different in every way

To winter’s cold icy freeze.

It is times like this when I wonder,

As I keep my doubts at bay,

If we hadn’t met when we were younger

Would we still be friends today?

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