You liked it until you came to the edge.
You stood beneath the streetlight
and looked up
The snow was translucent as it fell
opaque on the ground
We couldn't see you after you fell

You were young and the world was yours
You couldn't get Faure out of your head
The snow stopped falling, and you slept.

Your sno-globe world tipped upside-down
The cellos in your mind scattered
Like frightened seagulls; screeching
and insulted
You hit the glass.
The plastic snow swirled into a pile
The streetlight glared off the
window-pains of your world
The glass reflected your life
You shattered, and joined the snow.
Even broken, you could not escepe.

Your hands searched the wall
like frantic mimes
searching for a door
The snow swirled and circled
You ran around the edge
Until you couldn't anymore
Plastic snow doesn't make
good snowballs
You could not sleep.

You were old and the world
was small.
You took a breath and gasped.
You could not breathe
You cried for help
...and the glass melted away.

11 February 1997