With no one to call for help, 

she simply sat, 

swallowed by the 

infinite snow globe. 

 

Not trapped but stuck, 

because there is a difference, 

she was alone in the foothills, 

in the snow, 

yet she didn’t seem to mind. 

 

She despised a lot of things, 

like being too early or too late, 

but she loved a lot more, 

like being alone but not feeling 

lonely. 

 

She didn’t seem to mind, 

not because of the glorious 

freedom that solitary brings, 

but because everyone 

has a turning point, 

a Change, 

and this was hers. 

 

For not once has she 

ever enjoyed the snow, 

yet being stuck in the 

snow globe offered her 

a sense of Peace that 

nothing—not even being 

exactly on time—has 

ever provided. 

 

Perhaps she did like the 

snow, but she would never 

tell anyone that.

 

For she was stuck.