Frosty The branch above my head is white covered by the snow last night. I listen to the icy breeze and watch the fluffy dancing trees. Then all that snow drops from the tree and lands, of course, on top of me. Snow down my boots, between my toes. Snow down my pants, and on my nose. Snow in my ears, I can not hear. I am a snowman now I fear. Copyright © 2001, Robert Pottle All Rights Reserved |