Death of a Snowman

December 8, 2008
My snowy heart is not cold
Although Jack Frost has flown far way from my world
I see the beauty in this change of seasons
These days when the soft glow returns to the earth
I will always regret never being able to feel the rub of new grass
Or watch the boy who worked so tirelessly on me dance through the night
Chasing a stream of ever elusive lights
He will watch me dissolve
And cry as the last piece of winter evaporates
But when I have disappeared,
like a white rabbit put back into its confine,
I can only hope that my water will trickle slowly
Down into the ground
And something he can take joy in
Will grow in my place.

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