Why am I so knit up with aches, this morning
in every articulation that bears weight?
Maybe because it turned so cool last night,
the a.c. still running strong.
Great God-if this is winter's warning
of things it's like eventually to bring on
I'd rather skip the season, altogether,
or. better, move to Costa Rica.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem