What on earth am I?

Here is some more stuff to read. Schmoetry, I guess. Um, you know what, I don't know what I am--a poet or a schmoet. What's worse, I have three people telling me poet, and two of the same people tell me schmoet or "it doesn't matter". Yeeks!

New Winter

It's wintertime again, and I need my coat.
Not that thin jacket--the time for that is done.
I need a coat.

I must have forgotten to clean out the pockets!
Look at this...
Is this the yarn doll I kept playing with last year?
Here's the rock I found along the wall!
And a paper that I scribbled on one night...

Each winter this happens.
Every winter it's the same.
I hope I never clean out my pockets at the end of season.