There still aren't any odors as we tread the newly soggy ground.
Two days ago, the world was frozen, wholly white. It isn't now,
But spring still is a month away, and, in this much-contested
Place, this naked plain across which Arctic gales and heavy
Southern air do battle, all could turn again. We'd dash inside.
The ground would freeze. Because these days of warmth are
Barely born, at risk of quickly dying, all the plants remain asleep,
Their lovely smells withheld.