march thaw

awkwardly stuck, he stands over there..
sphere upon sphere upon sphere
drooping haphazardly b'yond his control
smaller and smaller where once he stood tall

Top hat overturned at proverbial feet
just out of reach of his limb on the street
he watches in horror as his makers ignore
their creation and embrace his implacable foe

Every man has his season, though one things for sure
a snowman is no man to be in March thaw




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