Revisiting Snow Man - Poem by Scott Minar
Insidious knows some snow men.
Some are gracious and malformed,
leaves stuck in ice. Some are contingency
plans against the spring—
hold onto the preserving material
as long as possible. Some
are recalcitrant collectors of light.
He tried once to go and talk
to Stevens' epigram—
stuck on the tundra of a page.
The winds were horrible,
silence everywhere except
for a flopping hiss every few seconds.
He asked the Man
what a mind of winter was like.
It took years to figure it out
for himself. Long after snow
had ceased its slow romance in his life
and he began to feel cold
in earnest. It was as if his skin
were disengaging its comforting
hold on his body, like all his life
the brighter things became.
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