Born the morning after an Indiana snowstorm
We made you…all 2 ½ feet of you.
There was only that much snow…”but wait 5 minutes, it’ll change.”
We named you Lumpy because, well, you were. Sculptors, we’re not.
A few hours later your eyes fell out, and we named you Homer (not Simpson! says the Young Man).
Later that afternoon your nose fell off, and we named you Michael Jackson.
The next morning your arms fell off, and you again became Lumpy
Because, well…you were.
That afternoon you were jaundiced. The dog found you especially interesting.
Such is the life of an Indiana Snowman.
Unpredictable. Ever-changing. Ephemeral.
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