When I awoke that morning bright,
I could not find the greening ground.
The wide, wide world was washed with white;
The softness swallowed scent and sound.
These springtime snowfalls came and went.
I paid this one no special mind.
In work was how my time was spent
Between the bookcases confined.
But now I’m in a southern town,
Where time for frolicking has passed.
I never would have come back down
If I thought that snow was my last.