In the firmament, a frosty supply.
Winter whitening, within, without, high.
Each flake in brand new cookie cutter shape.
Meek congregates, quickening the landscape.
Base, torso, head - together in dreamland.
Snowballs giggle as they’re rolled big and grand.
‘Will he grin,’ he’s wondering, and perchance
‘an old hat, a half chomped carrot, nice stance.’
Contrast of black, coal eyes against blue skies.
Snow...
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