Usually I try to spot things that I could see being better, first. But this poem is already quite crisp, and I like also its elements crepuscular.
"The wonders of life begin, as infants drifting aimlessly, new bodies gripping the earth..."
Rarely do I see an intro so productively profound. See, that's what I truly read there after I had seen the entire poem, I saw a ponderous metaphor. I also don't know if this was your intention or not, but considering the graphics shortly to come in the second half, big red man almost could be symbolic of devilish tragedy, cruel tricks and irony.
The repetition of the word little works subtly well here, getting better the more numerously it is passed over. Now for all this that you have set up for us however, the shock of what's coming is a description that falls flat, and should probably pack more vibrancy.
Since you say warm red drops you might consider saying "frigid or chilly" white snow, or expunging the white so that we just have snow. It would mostly just be an aesthetic thing for the flow and format you have been going with in this poem from the outset.
You could get a more thorough internal rhyme by saying "doctors saying they weren't able." Besides, you're already working with present tense by using coating and wailing.
"death, and car wrecks," So the ice congealed over this poem is not as thin as you may conjecture at first glance. How do things Mount and get so severe from such tiny and seemingly insignificant and isolated series of events? Well the snowflake, under the right conditions, concocts a blizzard. "A blizzard of bullets to gag the holiday-spirited plays," i'd suggest that the shootings line could be emblazoned a little bit. That's probably great opinion speaking though, since i like poetry to seize me somewhat.
Now we reach something of an ambiguous end here, for we don't know who has been lost and we have to supply our own experiences into the deserted snow angel. Nor do we know anymore of the unsuspecting step that gave way. I'd almost like to see another 4 lines or so, right after winter-themed plays, or attached to the ending here. I feel like anything poignant slipped away into merely a cliche sigh of ethereal generic heartache: but perhaps that what death is for many lives.
So I would mark this treading-softly-over-the-stained-snow piece, aaaaa-Aa-aa 7.25/10 What really makes it lose a good 2 points it easily could have had, was that the reader is picking up hints about your message, but its coming to us in an ooze of fog. We ought to be able to pick up at least 4/5ths or 80% of the meaning of these lines, but I leave feeling a little disoriented, some part of me insisting i missed a big clue or two in the transmission. But the imagery and main feelings were expressed in a very understandable form.
Points: 1820
Reviews: 129
Donate