By Christina Shepherd McGuire
—
Snow falls amidst your tiny sphere
Awakening nostalgic memories.
A big cityscape.
A chilled skating pond.
Shushing down the mountainside.
I shake you up.
You snow some more.
Life seems simple in your bubble.
What’s it like inside that dome?
Is your bed cozy?
No money woes, I’m sure.
Or schedules. Or rushing.
In fact, you’d bump into a glass wall,
Should you vacate your scene.
You live in a captured moment,
Void of outside interruption.
Just stillness.
Like when winter days are
White.
Soundless.
For you it’s simply
Snow angels on the ground.
Walking your dog on a leash.
Sitting under a flickering streetlamp.
Beneath a snowy sky.
In a protective bubble.
And so with each shake of the globe,
I go there too.
