Skipping past lounge chairs covered in snow,
To get to the hot tub, you have to tiptoe.
Sinking down beneath the froth,
Comfortable in the steamy broth.
Surrounded by wet leaves and slush,
I put my hands to my cheeks and feel them flush.
Gazing at dead and dull trees,
Wondering if my hair will freeze.
Noticing the sky is misty and hazy,
Even the afternoon is lazy.
Wallowing happily in the foam,
Feeling as if I’m at home.