written by: Giovanni Fruncillo
The man who wrote ‘The Snowman’ is really a
Mystic in a business suit.
After reaching down into
the wheel of life,
he stops to wipe the ink off
his hands from the morning newspaper,
before dictating poems to his secretary.
Better to be a corporate King in Connecticut.
Why imagine a climate without poetry?
To strip words of their high sounding hooks?
He must have had a
mind of winter.
Like that old German philosopher,
lost in the mountains of