The Snowman

Snow drifts softly outside,

beneath a quilt, my toes hide.

The fire crackles, I crack my knuckles,

the marshmallows in my mug swirl about, and I chuckle.

It had been so long since I last saw this movie,

but I always remembered it was playful, and goofy.

It was sweet, heartfelt, by the end, even sad,

it brought back memories of family, of my mom and my dad.

It tells the story of a young boy, adventurous and fun,

and the time he built a snowman under the gentle winter sun.

The snowman comes to life, and much like the boy,

it is fun-loving, curious, filled with adventurous spirit and joy.

Together, they fly to the North Pole, find other snowpeople,

meet Santa Claus and reindeer, but alas, there's no sequel.

When they return, the boy hugs his friend, then heads inside,

but by morning, the snowman has melted, to the boy, he has died.

I am always sad when I see the ending of this story,

my sister asked me why I watch it, and I replied warmly.

"It's a beautiful tale, and the message it tells us,

is comforting in the end, as it's all about love and loss."

It's tragic that the snowman melts, but he brought the boy happiness,

the two of them shared a Christmas miracle, filled with hope and kindness.

Childhood innocence is precious, and it's over in a flash,

as soon as we grow up, adulthood makes an awful big splash.

Sometimes the responsibility that comes with that can swallow us whole,

and it's difficult to remember what it's like to be a child, and not to be old.

But when we take the time to watch a powerful film to help us remember,

those memories of friendship, innocence, light, are no longer dying embers.

Wrapped in my blanket in my place on the couch,

I wipe away a warm shimmer of a tear, and try not to slouch.

The hot chocolate is warm, and the snow is powdery out on the lawn,

I lay back against the pillows, and let out a yawn.

Perhaps one of these tired days, I shall build a snowman,

bundle up in my hat and scarf, no blueprints or plan.

I'll give him a straw hat, a tomato for a nose,

or some fruit very similar to the one the boy chose.

I'll give him my scarf, add pebbles for his dotted smile,

and when he's done, I'll step back, and admire him for awhile.

He'll guard our house, our Christmas lights, and all of our wishes,

and when he melts, it'll be okay—

the next snowfall, he'll be built anew, all we need is a few inches.