The Last Snowball

There it sits, the last snow. It's all blackened around the edges. I could fashion one final, good, sizeable snowball from that last reminder of a long and torturous winter. I could pick somebody, yeah, I know loads of them, somebodies, nobodies, ones that deserve it, and really launch that snowball at them. I wouldn't do it, not really, not in more than mind. It's funny to plot it though, to make a plan for what will never happen. A snowball attack. Winter gone, he said. It took it out of us. It is sunny and warm outside now. There is a full blue sky, clear and crisp. It took me days to realise that really winter had passed. I didn't trust it. That snow on the driveway. It should have vanished by tonight really. Don't expect. Then never disappointed can we be. The last snowball, fading fast... and then gone.