Is not talking about the weather 
the most trite and still regularly practiced exercise of socialization?  
I don’t mind it, really;
in a way, it’s an offering across whatever miles of identity and experience separate us
       I can smile at anyone and say, “Hot enough for you?”
       knowing it will be returned by some form 
       of conversational connection.

I’ve actively worked
to overcome my annual despondence at the hands of the heat, the humidity, and so on.
People think it’s because I grew up in the Snow Belt…
       …that one’s constitution just can’t handle summer when it lasts a mere two months, 
       if we were lucky.
But that’s not why. 
It’s the summer itself
that defeats me
the constant demand to GO! SHINE! BE BRIGHTLY ALIVE!
the expectation that all of the buzzy seasonal energy is rejuvenating and exhilarating
the calendar overfilled with obligatory “now or never” meet-ups and outings
When all I want to do is curl into the leafy shadow of the oak trees
close my eyes
and wait for the fireflies