Passings Poem by George Droney

Proud stood he, the snowman strong; a monument, a winter song
attesting to the labor of four children and their play, their love.
The trampled snow around his base, that crooked smile upon his face;
my phantom youth caressed me briefly with memories I held so sweetly.
I tossed him them a friendly wink, he sent one back at least I think.
Then came a warming rain one day and drop by drop took him away.
I watched as head and body shrank and to the ground his smile shrank.
Soon but a heap of muddied snow, so sad to see my new friend go.
Yet sorrow eased in a subtle way for we both felt the same that day.