It's nearly midnight and a hush falls over Manhattan as twelve more inches of the purest white covers this sleepy town.
I'll treasure this stillness.
Before the grinding salt spreaders make their way and metal scraping plows break dawn's day.
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
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