Inspired by the photograph I took of icicles on a neighbour's house.
MURDER IN THE SNOW
I looked at the icicle hanging
From the roof of a neighbour’s house
And thought what a wonderful weapon
It would make, if I weren’t such a mouse.
I’d like to kill just one person
Before I kick the bucket myself
I think the icicle would do the job
Better than a knife from the shelf.
I’d stab them over and over again
‘Til the snow was completely blood-stained
And then the weapon would melt in the sun
And be washed away when it rained.
So the body would be there for all to see
But the weapon would never be found
No matter how hard they searched for it
All over the newly thawed ground.
No fingerprints, no forensics you see
I just might get away with the crime
It’s almost worth testing my theory out
Before I run out of time.
The problem is that there’s no-one around
That I really would want to be dead
So I’ll have just to imagine the crime
And keep it all to myself in my head.
11.12.10
©Sandra E Chubb
Don't worry, the snow and ice have all gone for the moment in St André!
