Explore "Snowdrifts" by Amy Ella Blanchard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Over you go / Into the snow, / Eyes are bright, cheeks in a glow. / Out he crawls, / Now snow-balls / Fly against the trees and walls.
O, this is prime, / Now's the time / To run and tumble, race and climb. / When we are old, / Snow will seem cold, / And we'll not be overbold.