SNOW GLOBE
by Sherry S.

Dismissed from school for months
because of a full-body psoriatic
onslaught, I taste a skin flake
in homemade soup at lunch.
Spitting it out in disgust, I notice
more flakes floating atop alphabet
shapes and curse my condition.
With scalp, eyebrows, and face
under siege, I rise and rinse
my glasses so I can read
the words in the newspaper's
usual broth of letters. As I get
back into it, the recliner shakes.
Its wobble makes me wonder
whether the long predicted earthquake
will transform my sealed apartment
into a snow globe of white flakes
gently swirling above the toppling.