Too Far South

I am tired of winter
with its draughts and frost
tired of tensed muscles turned
away from wind and rain
of holding myself hunched
against the weather.

I need sun's bite on bare flesh
need languid nights
where I can stretch out
and feel every bit of me
breathing.

After seven years the blood
thickens, doesn't feel
the cold.

Then why does a blast
of heat from the tarmac
as I touch home ground
smite me
like the scent of frangipani
after rain?