"Snow Plough"

Rolling through life, head down,
clearing the path of clouds.

Mowing the white, open mouth.
Endearing to those on your route.

Growing, the tide you have to mount.
Fearing it'll be too late when you figure this out on your round, although,

Snowmen with carrot noses
swallowed by clouds, smothered by pillows
are either side of the road you're digging.
Showing you scattered clues of where you'll go with the life that you're living.

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