Borrowed scarf, stolen carrot and mittens,
frostbitten fingers determined to finish,
eyes were a button and a bottle cap squished in.
Mothers called but no one listened -
For they were on a mission.
Guarded by sentries throughout the winter,
armed with snowballs against would-be aggressors;
notches were patched and scars smoothed till
they glistened -
For they held fast to the mission.
Then springtime came unbidden,
green grass was unhidden,
and snow fights gave way to baseball.
There were bikes to be ridden and friends
to be called -
Snowmen were no longer the mission.
His deformed face invited derision
when they bothered to notice him at all.
Carrot fed to the chickens,
button returned to its proper position,
right eye bottle cap went missing,
a mud puddle good for splishing -
was all that was left of the mission.
Wintertime Fun
The Mission
Published by Family Friend Poems February 2021 with permission of the Author.
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