I start as one tall leg, I spread into three, I squat and still, To make it easier to see.

One chair of many, Or one pressing weight, Though I'm often empty, I park myself and wait.

A poet's delight, dear readers, Calm flakes and unique art, I fall upon cedars, Cold but warming the heart.

What kind of iceberg can be eaten completely in one meal?

I’m a secret shared in a crowded room, Yet I carry the weight of a heavy heart’s doom. I’m the guilty sound of a secret told, But for a cheated friend, I’m bitter and cold. I have no voice to shout or sing, Yet I’m the 'careless' thing a dancer brings.