Snowman poem

It’s strange how the snow drifts down around me. It’s strange how the snow settles so lightly on the tree.

It’s strange how everything is so white and bright And makes even the scary things seem alright. 

I scooped my gloved hand across the floor. Squished it into a ball and went back for more.

Taking in it’s coldness, I made the snow my own And ending up shaking and waking the snowman. 

Cautiously I look out into the white beyond, Talking to myself and making myself respond.

Without thinking I answer my questions Almost naturally comes many suggestions. 

My mind hides, crouches in the cold, Curious at the wonders it beholds.

Staring, glaring and daring to Experience the bond we were sharing.