This is the best weather, she said confidently,
When you can sit outside under a blanket
Or go into town with only a jumper and scarf
Unencumbered by weight.
But I like the rain, said a whistful voice,
When you can lounge indoors by the window
And watch the droplets splatter and run
Untethered from time.
Ah, you are both wrong, whisered a third,
It is when the world is utterly silenced by snow
And the leaden sky is laden with flakes
Unfettered and free.
That is all well and good, sighed another,
But it is the heat of the sun in midsummer
Wrapping itself around the lithe limbs of children
Unselfconscious and innocent.
What of the wind through the leaves, said a fifth,
Or the skitter of litter on the street
Blown hither and yon by a teasing breeze
Unexpectedly warm?
The best weather, is whatever
the world gives you today,
For you are alive to feel it, said a final voice firmly,
to rejoice in it and be glad.
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