Snow: years of anger following hours that float idly down -- the blizzard drifts its weight deeper and deeper for three days or sixty years, eh? Then the sun! a clutter of yellow and blue flakes -- Hairy looking trees stand out in long alleys over a wild solitude. The man turns and there -- his solitary track stretched out upon the world. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRDS DO THUS by ROBERT FROST ADMETUS; TO MY FRIEND RALPH WALDO EMERSON by EMMA LAZARUS THE CRESCENT MOON by AMY LOWELL A JOYFUL SONG OF FIVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM |