A Patch of Old Snow (a poem by Robert Frost)

 

 

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.

 

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