I walked outside with no hat on my head
and felt the warmth of the day.
I feared very much that Ms. Winter had fled,
her wedding gown melted away.
But now she returns, with big heavy flakes
caressing the roof of my hovel.
I'm willing to bet that by morning she makes
several inches to shovel.
I'm so glad!
(I'm lying, of course.
As for Ms. Winter, I want a divorce.)