Winter Population Poem by Jan Sand

Winter Population



Broom in hand
The snowman stands
Top hat on top
Black button eyes
Staring under stormy skies
Like a frozen traffic cop.
Down, down the starflake snowflesh flies
Filling gullies, capping walls
As if the drift would never stop.

But stop it does in whitely quiet
>Til the kids come out in riot
Rolling snow to triple balls
So soon a thousand snowman faces
Grin and stare from snowman places.

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