I am the first of the last You'll find me in the forecast
Yesterday, of me does not know Unlike today and tomorrow
I have no regrets, you see And regrets has none of me
With no beginning and no end What do you think I am, my friend?
I live and thrive in the winter as I grow down and sharpen but you’ll never see me in the summer because I’ll die in warmth. What am I?
You can find me in abundance in Greenland, in a box, in a sweet treat but you’ll never ever find me in an oven. What am I?
