The Lonely Frozen Sculpture

Winter’s roaring blast,

as fierce as a storm-tossed mast,

painting the chestnut ground below,

in pure white, like a bride’s glow.

***

Frigid cobalt skies,

crack open with howling cries,

soft snow tangoing with ice,

even the woodland creatures think twice.

***

People bundled tight,

in wool hats, coats and scarves from winter’s bite,

Yet here I am,

a wooden man sculpture, stiff and still

As cold as the snowflakes that won’t stand still.

***

In the distance, shoveling snow

echoes like a whale’s mournful blow,

mingling with the giggles of children,

another snow day.

***

Alas, no youngsters visit here,

my mustard and ketchup slides, stay empty, I fear.

Parents and kids are on the hunt for hills to glide

while I sit, forgotten, with no one to just say hi.

*******

Thank you for reading!