‘If there’s snowing hanging around
on the ground
mark my words
there’s more to come down’
So said my lovely old man at eight o’ clock this morning. ‘No’ said I, ‘The forecast says it’s getting milder.’
It’s what they’ve always said
you mark my words.’
‘Keep warm dear.’ I hope I see him in the morning, by then the last bits will have washed away from the city paths.