Oh, you are not my snow, you laid it for someone else, and you admitted your mistake. . .
Then a snowman, an unfinished snowman, at least I didn't give it wings, it sneaked away when I turned around, and took my glasses away when I left.
Then ran away. Ran far, far. Running was covered with dust, and turned into a mud snowman.
Then spring came, when the little tree just sprouted, you started looking for people, but you looked in the wrong direction, and you were running to the top of the mountain! ! !
Then, when you notice it, you realize that it is too late to catch up with others, and the person in your field of vision is far away from the mountain. Then your sight is blocked by the snow-filled clouds.
Then you are at the highest point, jumping down at the fastest speed. . . .
So, with a bang, a snow-covered Kiwi appeared in my vision.
Then winter came.
Winter is here. There will be another snowman.
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To commemorate the past winter and Kiwi
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