Dirty Snowman

Walking on Capitol Hill near the First Church of Christ, Scientist, we found this snowman chilling on the corner. With cocktail garnish eyes and an old tofu container for a hat, it looked like he hadn't washed in days. It seemed like he needed a smoke pretty badly, so we gave him one. He was grateful, humble even, and accepted the stubby smoke without complaint or comment. He knows the score: after this next freeze his days are numbered. The temperature wasn't much above 32 fahrenheit, perhaps just a couple of degrees, but the sky was open and the sun bright. His texture was already pitted from the previous day's melt and refreeze overnight. I shifted from one foot to the other as he stood mute, my friend muttered a conciliatory comment, but we knew it wouldn't help. The awareness of death a heavy weight between us. We nodded to him solemnly and walked on. Just as I started to turn away, I saw a tear fall from his orangy eye...