The Snowman.

It’s winter—and we’re walking
on a path where
there used to be leaves.

You point me in the direction
of where the car ran off, right there,
right behind a series of bushes

that look like birds,
the skeleton of a path
left over

beneath the trees.
A mailbox marks the place, red
with rust and old wind—old

with something more than it’s just the wind again,

and you begin to look too far north,
up over a hill that’s become
a glacier

to a boy that is
there—that is not there—in the
distance.

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About mckenzielynntozan

McKenzie Lynn Tozan lives and writes in Indiana, where she works as a virtual assistant, editor, and freelance writer via her self-started business, MLT Creative. She received her MFA in Poetry from Western Michigan University, where she worked as the Layout and Design Editor for New Issues Poetry and Prose and as an Assistant Poetry Editor for Third Coast. She previously completed her B.S. in Secondary English Education and B.A. in English, with a Concentration in Writing, at Indiana University South Bend, where she worked as the Managing Editor for 42 Miles Press. Her poems have appeared in Rogue Agent, Whale Road Review, the James Franco Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Encore Magazine, Thank You for Swallowing, The Spooklet, Sleet Magazine, and Analecta, among others; and her book reviews and essays have appeared on The Rumpus and Motherly. When not writing, she enjoys art and music, and the simple mathematics of being a wife of one, a mama of two, and a cat-mom of three. For more, visit www.mckenzielynntozan.com. View all posts by mckenzielynntozan

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