Glass Ball Ornament


Snow falls in its familiar pattern
just as we do,
and to the side-
up and to the other side around,
as if the gray skies would part for an instant
to let two massive hands of a child in wonderment
shake the world,
like fizz inside an unopened soda can,
wandering the semi urban streets
for the highway
or closest bridge to another existence,
passing the rattle of dragging bike chains
or the Christmas carol clinks of a hobo’s treasure chest,
symphonic, like red and white light screaming
fire engines, headed back inward
toward the rosy, death colored smell
of my American Pompeii,
once perfect in its creation,
now perfect in its destruction,
the ash settles decoratively
in the stillness of another clear night.

See more from Blast No. 2



  1. ROGER SAYS: THIS IS BLAST NO. 2 | Roger Presents: - April 1, 2012

    […] day to day can be difficult, though, and is often violently unsettling. Daniel Maroti‘s poem, Glass Ball Ornament, is a testament to […]

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *