Snow Globe

The hill behind the cabin teemed with evergreens that year,

That glistened in the light and stood like soldiers set to march.

The little stream was frozen o’er, cyanic and austere;

It marked a path that snaked beneath a quaint and latticed arch.

A simple dwelling though it was, a chimney did appear;

Bespeaking warmth within the mask of sculpted stone and larch.

It was a scene of winter cheer, serene and oddly still …

There was no movement showing life, no sound of any kind.

There were no children on a sled, with laughter gay and shrill;

The brightly lighted yellow panes stared vacant and resigned.

No column wafted from the stack, that might becalm a chill;

Like some abandoned stage it stood, but ready to unwind.

It took a child with eager hands to turn that world on end,

To cause the turmoil of a storm and stir the dormant snow,

With eyes that must have filled the sky and twinkled as he grinned,

Reflecting iridescent flakes that sparkled in the glow.

It is the lot of children to bestir the laid-back trend,

With grownups sharing in their dreams, continuing to grow.

r. nuñez, 9/2015