You never imagined
you’d end up wishing
for a colder snowier winter
or for less sunshine,
less heat in your summer,
more water in your town pond.
That you’d be missing
the sub-zero of January
in New England
and the damnable,
tropical, reddened
air of August. You must
see it — the formerly
painful weather
of your youth is gone,
and this nostalgia is
harbinger only
of pain to come.
Dark Matter 
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