You thought that she was finished, gone.
But then Late Winter comes along,
For one last party, one last fling,
Before it becomes proper spring.
One last performance, one last show,
Of rain and hail and wind and snow.
Then she takes a bow, exits the stage.
And lets Early Spring out of her cage.
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Random Misanthrope 
Lovely write, let’s hope she takes the bloody hint!
I’ve heard about all the snow and hail you got over there. We’ve had a few early spring snow flurries over here, but no accumulation, thank god. The minus temperatures are back, though this happens every April doesn’t it?