FLORIDA MID-WINTER REMEMBERING

Think not, when fire was right upon my bricks,

And past the tight boards hardly a wind could enter,

I glowed like them, the simple burning sticks,

Far from my cause, my proper heat and center.

-John Crowe Ransom

From Winter Remembered

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There’s a patch of old snow in a corner

That I should have guessed

Was a blow-away paper the rain

Had brought to rest.

It is speckled with grime as if

Small print overspread it,

The news of a day I’ve forgotten —

If I ever read it.

Robert Frost

–A Patch of Old Snow