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Writer's pictureMichael Barnes

A Snowball

Updated: Aug 27, 2019

I went to live off in the woods

away from what they

said was good.

I pitched a tent,

then pitched a fit,

frustrated with what I could not invent.

I struck my flag down

staked my claim,

but its colors and crest were not read correct.

So allies turned to enemies,

no medal you could pin to me,

while nursing wounds and injuries,

we all went separate ways.


I learned from learnéd men to deal

with problematic ways I feel

by bottling them, tabling it, then offering an aphorism instead

like, "it's better not to beg and steal"

you should, ”trap, and fish, and hunt."


I looked across the canopies

the endless sky and covered trees,

then packed a snowball good and tight.

Above the hill, I stood, to watch the snowball as it rolled.

It started slow, then picked up speed

and gathered more snow

the faster it rolled.

The faster it grew,

the bigger it got,

and finally,

way at the bottom,

it stopped.

The snowball stayed until spring came,

by then, it dared not stay the same.

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