It doesn't like me out of reach,
huddled under my evergreen umbrella.
The snow plays in the breeze like a wind chime,
dancing through balding trees and Christmas lights.
I blink and it is gone, it must have flaked out.
Should this cover be taken and I a snowman left out to thaw,
I would crumble and fall apart, my legs don't hold in the cold;
Then maybe I can be consumed and for just this moment,
be part of your white winter.
But I am cut up, and sprinkling salt would only burn more
in this freeze. Shake some more and maybe you will catch me off-guard,
throw me into the riptide free-fall and out of my frosty repose,
sleepy in the shadow of my lonely tree reverie.
I know it isn't your fault for the weather,
but I can't help but hate you for keeping me in this snow globe.