SF vs. SE

In my time were the tears
I felt from reading of Kerouac's San Francisco
and then experiencing it myself -
sober and adroit -
a man without soul
as often times I thought of myself
Anyhow - it wasn't the same
Snow falls from the tender pink sky
somewhere back home
in the long-forgotten back-country of Sweden -
my dearest home
(I knew though, that it was not so -
at least not where I live -
there it is the sweet warm spring,
the budding of the trees,
the everything -
and even yesterday my parents said
they'd enjoyed some really warm weather -
warmer than here in chilly Sanfran, at least)

(från USA-resan)