Okay. Snow in April, then read this:
A Patch of Old Snow
There’s a patch of old snow in a corner
That I should have guessed
Was a blown-away paper the rain
Had brought to rest.
It is speckled with grime as if
Small print overspread it,
The news of the day I’ve forgotten–
If I ever read it. Robert Frost
Another one:
Like The Last Patch Of Snow
That’s the way
we’ve got to hang on–
Like the last patch of snow
clinging to the hillside
crouching at the wood edge
with April done
dirty-white
but defiant
lonely
fighting death. Raymond Souster
