Self-Portrait of an Arizona Snowman
       

Don't call me the face of global warming.
Just think of me as the diplomat of what happens
is meant to happen. Each spring, the collapse back
into rhythm, into the flow down the creek. A freedom
I fast forward into, colorless and reflecting color.
Children will have to wait or ask their parents to vacation
in Flagstaff, Show Low, Snowflake, or Munds Park, where I
can be found through their hands slowly sculpting skyward.
But in this discounted flask, isolated on the mantel
in 110-degree weather, I'm whatever you need
to believe in today. Shake me like a snow globe,
though no flakes glitter down. Here's my body melted
for you: hat, carrot nose, sticks for arms, scarf snaking
to the top. This gig of playing missing. This April Fool's
drowning. I remain otherwise, just uneventful, just as alive.

Tweet
Copyright © 2022 Jeevan Anthony Narney All rights reserved
from The Georgia Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission