I prefer snowmen that aren't dead, thank you very much.

No remnants of frostbitten carrots,

Or a drooping pair of arms

Resting lazily, like the sticks that they really are

In the mud.

Shhhh, you're not supposed to notice that!

Yes, that's right, the sunshine and the salt

Is only a figment of your imagination,

Along with the robins and the rain and the mud

And the increasing red in that thermometer.

Perhaps you're colour blind?

I see no red,

Seeing as I'm no matador enticing a bull

To come and charge me,

To crush me,

Trample me,

And leave me

Wanting an ice pack

When there is no ice to be found!

That's why the world is white

And why the snowmen shouldn't die!

I wouldn't know about you, but

When I fall,

I need them.

…I need my pillow to sleep.