The Snow Globe

In silent repose
The tiny village stands,
Dusted lightly by the pale
Twinkling snow,
Suspended in time,
Enclosed within a glass-like globe.
The children dance merrily
In the minuscule cobbled streets
To some unknown, quiet tune.
The small pine trees frame
The cheery houses
Powdery white, their decor
One of tiny icicles.

She watches with agonizing eyes,
Listens with tormented ears,
Jealous of the fictitious world
Captured in that moment.
Her Chaser hands delicately
Turn the music key
To fill the quiet air with
Slow, mournful tones.
She listens -
Memories of the horrid past
Burdening her soul,
Weighing on a guilty mind;
The Christmas spirit void
Within her broken heart.

She turns away from the
Festive scene,
Her face gaunt and stretched
From the hours of
Worrying, sobbing, hating.
The same thought pesters her -
Will it ever be the same again?
A glance to the globe
Is all the answer she needs
As she slides back into
An anguished reverie.