62. Snowman of A Soldier's Wife
In the clear afternoon sky,
the sun shone a foot high of snow.
She piled the white paste with the blue shovel;
Her four years old son involved with a red toy bucket.
After the snow ball was big enough, they started to roll.
She memorized the sweet love days at high school,
with a boyfriend who later became her husband.
The rolling ball became bigger and bigger
and stopped in front of the house entrance.
Then they built another ball.
“So funny mom!” articulated in a toddler’s accent.
She continued to roll, thinking of her pregnancy;
and of her husband’s last kiss before his deployment:
to pursue the terrorists in the faraway country,
to liberate slave women in the stone age community,
to assist people to fight for freedom and democracy.
She forced the second on top of the first.
The boy started to roll the third
that later she used as the head.
She untied her red and green scarf
and rounded the neck of the snowman.
“I love you forever…Honey!”
With small pieces of wood she put steady
the mouth, the nose and two eyes.
The boy enjoyed around the snowman, didn’t see
his mother speeded inside the house. She came out
with the camouflage cap and the flag on the pole.
She capped her tall snowman
and stood the flag on his right hand.
She admired her statue and took off her gloves
to clasp her son’s hand.
The tear traced her cheeks; faced the fatherless kid.
Learned from the daycare unit,
the boy saluted his snowy guy,
the flag softly moved… under the blue sky!
Xaysouvanh Phengphong
16 Dec 2012
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