You cut up the rain,
the cold, and the gray, toss it in
a pot, and make a stew, but you’ll
gain no comfort, and you
may just go insane
from wanting the warmth of the
sun when all you have are clouds
that will not go away.
You’ll put on weight.
You’ll sleep in late.
You’ll enter a depressed state
for an entire season unless,
of course, you’re fortunate enough
to become chronically ill.
The stew won’t help you in that case, either.
That’s just an old wive’s tale.