The Great Snow of 1943
So in the midnight the great snow
Covered over the dark ground;
Feet were hobbled and wheels spun;
The hydrants smothered, sank, drowned.
The great snow bandaged the street lights,
And banked the doors of the bright shops
And hid the hot little cars deep,
And mounded over the train tops.
Careless and pure, the snow fell.
This was the finish, we all knew.
So man expired in a white dream.
It seemed like a damned good idea, too.
Morris Bishop.