And in the frozen landscape our snowman's scarf became a reminder of the spring blooms to come.
In my imagination, the snowman grew a beating heart, his snow melted to water and yet he kept his shape and sweet brown arms. I saw this new version so gleeful in his scarf, the wool giving him a rainbow glow and promising him a brand new start.
The snowman's scarf in this winter wind conjures notions of his flight, as he was truly walking in the air.
When I see the snowman's scarf, I see those old hands that fashioned it from the longest piece of yarn.
Here comes the winter wind, each snowman's unseen scarf, to stir the snow, to wake the trees in a percussion of chattering.
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