The Snowman

When the skies are full
and the world falls silent,
muffled by a thick blanket
of the purest white,
he is reborn

Cold to the touch
but warming the soul,
loved by the young
and young at heart

The blackest of coal
brings him to life,
the oldest of threads
keep him warm

But his life is short;
Mother Nature chases
the frosts away and
black clouds force
their way in

Rain pours like tears
and our new friend
is gone as swiftly
as he arrived

But do not cry,
for one day
the skies will fill
once again and
he will return.

July2017

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