Dee LeRoy
turned from the road
toward a creek

running cold yet unfrozen
near trees beyond the house.

I circled him, faced him
grinned at his quartz pebble smile.

Though he could not tip his hat
I knew he wanted to.

“Watch your back,” I said
though I saw he had no ears.

The carrot nose twitched slightly
as if he chuckled at my wit.

Only the eyes betrayed
more somber meditation

their marbled glass
reflecting sky-trees-me

all like the creek in our flowing.

There I thought I saw
the snowman’s heart.

I recalled how in summer
I contemplate the soil

all it produces, all it reclaims.

“Water to water,” I whispered
touching the snowman’s face

lifting my hand quickly
as a drop began down his cheek.

Photo by Nathan Wolfe on Unsplash

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