Okay, it technically wasn’t snow, but it sure looked like it. Here is a poem that I wrote calling the weather here snow even though it was sleet and tiny ice pellets.

 

It gathers in corners and powders the roads

Icicles hanging a drip at a time

Grey skies and sunlight melting the shadows

Swirling the snowflakes in rooftops and trees

Leaves on the live oaks pale with frost

Melting, retreating to small chunks of shade

Grass white with ice

So clear and glassy

Slippery with winter fading to spring

Ω