One snow. Two snow. More snow? Boo, snow.
One snow.
Two snow.
More snow?
Boo, snow.
The first storm? That was pretty cool.
“Hurrah! We’re off and skipping school!”
But now the snow day’s grown so old.
We’re just plain done with cold, cold, cold.
A five-day school week? No such thing.
They’ve learned instead the snowball fling.
On days when school’s on time—at last!
They stumble to the car, aghast.
Some storms are old and some are new.
We shovel ’til we’re black and blue.
We sprinkle salt, then go buy more.
Then track it onto every floor.
By now that freshly fallen snow
Has lost its sparkle and its glow.
It’s all turned black or brown or…gold.
And have we mentioned that it’s cold?
Some storms come early. Some come late.
Some make us want to leave the state.
Some bring inches. Some bring feet.
This year we’ve sledded down our street.
Snow-lined trees are rather nice.
But we could take a pass on ice.
And snow keeps coming, by the score.
Tomorrow there may be some more.
One day, we think, springtime will come.
Without the snow, will we be glum?
Will we miss hail and thundersnow?
Will we complain of yards to mow?
Until that day, from here to there.
Snow, snow, snow is everywhere.
With deep appreciation to one of our favorite authors, Dr. Seuss, in honor of his 110th birthday.