Poetry day at Bicycles and Icicles

I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.

From "The Winter's Spring" by John Clare,
from Poems of John Clare's Madness.
Check it out at The Writer's Almanac.

(OK, OK, snow is pretty, yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm ready
for some dirt, dammit! Let's get on with spring.)