sometimes

how it happened isn’t as interesting
as the metaphor you’ve created in your mind

where you’re at, who was there, the colors
don’t fit neatly into package that you’ve created:

it was like a snow globe that winter, you write
but you remember being inside and outside

how can you be both inside and outside of a snow globe?
and you creatively reimagine the moment from inside of it

all sparkles
from being shaken

just a little bit
too hard