Snow globes shouldn’t solely
be the province of the Winter –
every gently repercussive slowly
settling echo, seismic after-shock,
and acclimating acclimation following
the softest jolt of anything produces
something like the bolt of tiny
sparkling crystals we shake up
indifferently in that glass orb:
the Christmas season shouldn’t
singularly give us reason to invoke
its fluffy storm, entropic aftermath.
I’ve just stumbled down a snow globe
path in warm late May: a whole
precipitating splay of iridescence now
is falling in the wake of the encounter
I just had with some sweet lovely
beast of man today. Had to sit down
in the snow globe blizzard drifts
amassing from the memories of it
to give the thing a full replay.
be the province of the Winter –
every gently repercussive slowly
settling echo, seismic after-shock,
and acclimating acclimation following
the softest jolt of anything produces
something like the bolt of tiny
sparkling crystals we shake up
indifferently in that glass orb:
the Christmas season shouldn’t
singularly give us reason to invoke
its fluffy storm, entropic aftermath.
I’ve just stumbled down a snow globe
path in warm late May: a whole
precipitating splay of iridescence now
is falling in the wake of the encounter
I just had with some sweet lovely
beast of man today. Had to sit down
in the snow globe blizzard drifts
amassing from the memories of it
to give the thing a full replay.
.
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