Shards

A snow globe shaken too briskly
And with wet hands
Will inevitably fall
Crashing to the ground
Snowing glass shards
On unsuspecting feet

Upon examination
The fantasy held inside
Is just flecks of plastic
An anchored figurine now unmoored
Its face chipped
Antifreeze, the irony
And water

The dynamic scene presented
Now revealed to be static
False
Bits spread across the floor
They'll cut you if you're not careful
More careful than shaking a thing
With slippery hands