We're the ones who have drawers,
Full of beanies and scarves and mittens.
Late at night in our yards,
We build forts, have exchanges of courage.
This is more than a season to us.
They call us "snowmen".
We hate the summer.
We beg the clouds to hold their rain,
Until it gets colder.
We build creatures in our own images.
And the angels aren't who we say they are,
They're just another way we leave our marks.
In desperation.
How does the weather change us?
First ask the snow to layer the lawn,
Then ask politely for it to stay there.
Can you call any place a home,
If it hasn't been touched by a blizzard,
To bring us closer together?
They call us "snowmen",
In times of winter.
We beg the clouds to hold their rain,
Until it gets colder.
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