Walking through snow in Prospect Park,

Silvery trees glowing in the dark,

No one but us atop the hill,

Only birdsong amid the still,

When suddenly the fit began,

Sneezing as frequent as from a spray can–

I turned to my wife, with whom I have differences,

Specifically on the subject of snifferences,

And said, suspecting what was wrong, 

"Somebody opened a window too long!"