Writing 201: Poetry – Day 9

THE
snowman
He stands
there in the cold.
He stands there guarding
the house, come snow
or hail. He stands there
with only his hat
and scarf
to
keep him warm.
He stands there
facing the gale force
wind that blows his hat off.
He stands there in the freezing cold.
He stands there wondering what it must
be like to be warm. He stands there facing
an orange glowing window. He stands there
watching the kids play in the cosy room. He
stands there in the bitter cold. Awaiting his
imminent but cruel death. He stands there
until the sun comes out and gives him the
warmth he so craves. He stands there now
only half his size as the rain washes away his black beady eyes.

 

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