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.