The Stark Truth Poem by Maureen Pickford
The Stark Truth
Why do people persist
In perpetuating the myth
That I can move around
When I can only stand my ground?
I'm fashioned of the cold.
A poked finger can drill a hole
But cannot reach a soul.
And when there's a thaw I will fold.
Melt into a muddle,
Soggy scarf steeped in a puddle.
So take a photo quick;
Before I go and start to drip!
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6/8/2024 12:55:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Poor old snowman, doomed to thaw. Very good write, like it Maureen.