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Frosty

The branch above my head is white
covered by the snow last night.
I listen to the icy breeze
and watch the fluffy dancing trees.
Then all that snow drops from the tree
and lands, of course, on top of me.
Snow down my boots, between my toes.
Snow down my pants, and on my nose.
Snow in my ears, I can not hear.
I am a snowman now I fear.


Copyright © 2001, Robert Pottle
All Rights Reserved

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