Published
The last of winter’s frozen flakes
Lay freshly on the ground
The whole of New York seems to think
We’re better off without
“This season’s really passed its prime,
We hope the sun brings summer now”
It’s hard to disagree with them
They speak a simple truth
And if we’re being honest here
I really hope that too
So snowy flakes, I have to ask
Is this winter through?
Let’s end it there
Goodbye cold friend
Don’t make me sick of you
—Connor