The snowman – Cary Briel

Posted on Jan 13, 2012 in Poetry, Writing

The snowman looks like
a debok, more
than the happy pipe smoking
chap we built this morning.
The dog huddles warm
inside his house,
and I hide til Spring.
Chris says she loves it,
but I’ve not yet seen her
rosy skin,
nor wave her wings-
a snow angel in our lawn.
The birds have hidden in their
nests, in branches,
magic, somewhere in a tree.
I can picture the scene-
limb and grass, nest-woven,
covered white.