In December’s grasp, the rain descends,
Where snow once lay, the deluge bends.
Gone, the joy in winter’s face,
A soggy shroud, a dismal embrace.
No laughter rings in sodden streets,
No snowy scenes, no crisp white sheets.
Just dreary skies, a somber veil,
Winter’s charm lost to this watery trail.
Each drop a lament for what’s been lost,
The changing climate, a heavy cost.
December’s sorrow, a mournful refrain,
In rain-soaked echoes, it remains.
