The Snowman

I have had it explained to me, by one far more knowledgeable than I, Why you cannot and should not, argue with a snowman. I have questioned, I have sought, but never once have I gained satisfaction His carrot-nose and pebble eyes unseeing, slowly drooping and distorting, As his face elongated and lengthened like my questions so piercing. Perhaps I hurt his feelings, or maybe I had insulted him, For after leaving him alone for a while, to consider my apparent misconduct, I returned to find him gone, vanished into the warm air That now hangs heavy with my confusion. Air thick with the promise of spring, That has departed, my footsteps and seeking unfound. My shovel sometimes scrapes on the driveway, when it is time to move the snow And I always seem to hear the faint words, ”Ask again, ask again,” But I have learnt to contain myself, to answer my own inquiring mind. For a snowman always runs away when questioned too much, And his disappearance is as surprising as his silence. ( This poem was published in the late 90s in South Africa in an anthology about South African poets )