(for Amanda Shute Sullivan)
the snowman dreams of houses
chimneys with no smoke
a modest closet where one can hang a shawl
an icebox, replete with spumoni.
books on the Arctic, Whittier perhaps.
and near the HiFi a chintz armchair, plastic wrapped
where one can relax and listen to xylophone= cool= jazz
and send out for raspberry popsicles...
not a fan of razmataz perhaps this snowman
likes Mozart, I don't know. a serenade
and frozen lemonade unthawed.
he drew the blueprints long ago with his stick arm
grazing the pond.
all shiny was the air;he looked at the moon
and stared and stared.
I suppose he thinks he might build there.
mary angela douglas 25 december 2020
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