The Winter Of '88... Poem by david lessard

Yes, I know this is winter...but where is the snow?
The blankets of white, that i used to know?
Why is it raining? And where is the cold?
It's forty out there, or so I am told.

One day it's zero, next day, it's not;
One day I'm freezing, next day, I'm hot.

Where are the blizzards that I used to know,
Yep, this is winter, but where is the snow?

If this is New Hampshire and I'm in the east,
What's happened to winter, that cold, savage beast?
The wind chill factor feels like thirty below,
But the hillsides are bare, where in hell is the snow?

One day's like spring and the mood is for mating...
Next day, it's frigid, and in my yard, I'm skating.

There is no rhyme or reason, to this, the winter season...
And I'd really like to know, just what happened to the snow.

Yes, I'm sitting here in January, and the icicles are dripping,
And it seems around the corner, we'll soon be maple syrup sipping...

And always I'll remember, as I watch the springtime show,
That winter in New Hampshire, when there wasn't any snow.