Taylor Rogers ’24
I left a glittering ball of green at your doorstep,
Knowing the emerald hue was a color you adored.
Patiently, the sphere sits outside,
Waiting for your comforting touch to pull it off the empty porch.
The ornament watches the world in awe,
As December rips off her white jacket,
Letting the small cotton balls gracefully glide to the ground.
Fragments of this coat began to dot Earth’s exposed back,
Hitting the poor planet with a cold embrace.
Day’s warmth soon escapes the tiny steps,
Surrounding the distraught ornament in night’s terrifying shadows.
As the sky fades, the green bead’s anxiety increases,
Unwilling to wait this long for its new owner.
Hope flees from this poor ball,
Refusing to stay on the freezing porch of despair.
Snow continues to languidly fall,
Taunting the lonely gift that appears to be unwanted.
A foot nearly crushes the distressed ornament,
But manages to stop itself as the sphere shakes in fear.
Within seconds, the ball of green is embraced,
Lifted from the doorstep of despair,
Finally allowed to relax in your arms.