For Children of all Ages
Every time it snows. Every time, man.
fingers freeze, pink,
cold white wet crunch
powdery, icy
form it, press it
patience, pressure
pieces fall away,
frustration
grit teeth,
determined breath
hold, please hold
earnest
features creasing
frown
this is very important
taking shape
lump: body
smaller lump: head
not done
pack more to the front
left and right
are they even?
no.
cute tho.
tiny pebble nipples
hard, slippery
more pebbles
navel
face
grass for hair
wet
breast keeps falling off
wonky
it'll do
fingers aching
almost blue
yearning to wrap round a hot mug
one more pat
critical squint
smile
pride
satisfaction
turn my back
leave her
twig arms reaching out
offering her cold embrace
to passers-by
stamp, stamp
warmth
steaming tea
peek out of the window
joy
my lady in white
her name is Gretchen,
and she doesn't give a damn about your beauty standards
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I shit ye not, I do this every time it snows. Never gets old.
I remember once, as a child, I did it the traditional way. My big sister, possibly dipping her toe in feminism and thinking the usual technique sexist, made some lumpy adjustments. I was furious and devastated that she ruined my creation. I know now, that she was wise.
Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment so I can reciprocate!
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If you, like me, have a soft spot for poems that rhyme, I gotchu, babe 👇
Apologies if you think it's shite.
About the Creator
L.C. Schäfer
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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!
Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz
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