The ground isn't white with snow. (It's 56°F as I type.) But here's a poem for the day, from Ted Berrigan (1934-1983):
Resolution[From Many Happy Returns (Corinth Books, 1969). In The Collected Poems of Ted Berrigan (University of California Press, 2005), it's in line three is changed to its.]
The ground is white with snow.
It's morning, of New Year's Eve, 1968, & clean
City air is alive with snow, it's quiet
Driving. I am 33. Good Wishes, brothers, everywhere
& Don't You Tread On Me.
Ted Berrigan, "A Final Sonnet"
Happy New Year (dialogue from the 1954 film Marty)