THE GOTHIC SNOWMAN

He stood there looking out of the window, lonely
Wondering when they would come.
He had been waiting now for so long
In his sparsely decorated living room,
A few photos scattered on the floor
And a photo album on the table.

And as he stood there he began
To melt away, slowly, softly:
His whole body collapsing, relaxing
And all his emotions draining away.

When after several weeks they did arrive,
Out of concern over unanswered emails
And phone calls they found
In his living room a heap of clothes,
Saw the photographs
And sensed the room itself
Consumed with both distress, 
And with longing.

MDC.  Copyright