They Howled

winter_florida_new_york

They Howled:

It gets cold here
when it’s 45 degrees.
People bundle up and chatter.
Talk of wearing layers.
Then at noon it is 70
and sunny, again.
Jackets get stuffed in bags
and carried around like luggage.

This is sunny Florida.
This is the place where
people come to forget
the cold winters and rat race
of when they were important.
With cheap housing
comes cheap labor.
Which do you favor?

It is a great place to reminisce
about the big cities.
Mostly, the big apple.
With northern accents
filling local gyms.

A guy named Bob speaks
to a guy named Rob
about the The Giants.
Past seasons.
When they saw history
painted and bare chested
in the cold arctic snow.
They howled.

Now they move like slugs
through their morning workout.
Retired and just happy to be vertical.
They talk of how they’d
rearrange the gym.
How people just don’t get it.
All people.
All coaches.
All unions.
All Presidents.

It is sunny here in Florida
as we melt together.
Southern born and
northern formed, Floridians.
We are fine here.
Most know we are backwards, here.
Most don’t care.
Because none of us want
the snow from up there.
Polar air stay clear.

When Summer comes
the snow birds will migrate
back to the cities.
The traffic will thin out.
The Yankee accents will lessen.
The leftovers will burn like toast
on our endless beaches.

The state of the flower
is timeless and knows
no power but nature.
Man is a pest as
we rent time and space
on this land’s thin tropical crust.
Three times surrounded by water.
We are always watching for
the next big storm.

To sound the alarm.
To wipe paradise off the map.
To reawaken.
To rebuild again.

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