May Day, maybe mayday mayday.
April’s ended having rained in damaging ways.
Yes, flowers are expected now in great array.
Yet, just north outside our east front door
Are still to be seen—mounds of snow. 
Maybe I’m mistaken that winter is gone.
Most of the frost has left the front lawn.
And the sun shines bright and warm
Yonder, every where except here. 
Young Street I wish was true to its name
Although the snow piles are proving that wish lame
Making Winterpeg a byword again.