sadness dripping from above
onto his hat-top head
from ice-cloaked branches
that sag from frozen tears.
This Snowman can no longer
hold his wholesome look;
are dropping to the ground,
leaving behind hollow voids;
his jolly face is slowly slipping
becoming small streams trickling
down his steadfast body
once a robust and jolly frame,
now emaciated and drawn,
inadequate before the sun.
But something unseen before is emerging;
so hidden life breathing beneath
he melting cloak of the ivory man.
an appendage reaches
out from the slushy bosom
five tiny fingers fluttering, bleeding,
grasping for the light of day.
He is struggling out,
pushing through the melting frame
which has imprisoned,
yet protected his delicate form
from ice, wind, and snow
and from angry strangers passing by.
The snow-clothed child,
shame-faced and guilty eyed,
has seen and endured all
the short lived thaw of joyous moments,
but mostly the cold, pain-filled days,
coupled with the terror of long dark nights
but he has survived the winter cruelty,
the death blows of isolated despair.
His past life
is the snowman melting away.
Spring has come alas,
Revealing the wounded, frightened child;
naked - vulnerable - alone,
now running, searching for his home,
a hat, some rocks and a scarf,
sinking in the icy puddle,
shadowed by the awakening Sun.
Soon the child's distant footsteps echo
the music of new life
found throughout the land.