Poems (Grossman)/Snow
For works with similar titles, see Snow.
SNOW
Tiny, little snow flakes, Whirling up so high,Tell me what you see there, 'Way up in the sky.
Pretty, little children? Golden tresses bright?Are they wearing diamonds, Shining through the night?
Do their darling parents Romp with them all day?Don't they ever study,— Do they always play?
Do they feast on candy,— Eat all that they will?Are they always healthy,— Are they never ill?
Do they wear white dresses,— Sashes of all hues?Have they golden tresses,— Silk and satin shoes?
After all, I'd rather Be a human girl;Wearing middies always, With my braid and curl.
Mother is so tender,— I have all her love.I can't really envy Children up above.
February, 1914.