A Look Into Jules' Glass Bottle

  Soup Joumou  It’s the first of January, in the season of Winter, A yearly tradition is to take place. The holiday season hasn’t quite come to an end, As the celebration of Haitian independence  And the New Year begins.  A large pot is lifted off the sleek, electric stovetop,  After a careful wipe with a wet cloth.  Nearby countertops are covered with various seasonings— Pepper, seasoned salt, garlic, and nutmeg.  Children with cheerful dispositions,  Filled with curiosity as to the delicious meal.  Conclusions are drawn as fresh bread fills the home. The ringing of spoons in four bowls— It’s Soup Joumou! Immediately, four wooden chairs,  Scrape against the tile floors,  Beneath the dinner table.  A beaming mother places four colorful table mats,  Bearing blue, red, white, green, and yellow. And those steaming, white ceramic bowls  Of Soupe Joumou and baguette—   After the folding of hands, a special prayer,...

  A Dream On Christmas Eve  The quilted blanket wraps me in warmth,  Beside the small rickety heater upon my nightstand.  Within moments, my eyes close,  After turning from the red winter jacket on my door.   A cry— Who could be out on this rough winter night?  I shoot out of bed, but where is the small, rickety heater,  Which used to sit on my nightstand?  A shiver escapes me. It’s cold— So I slip on my soft red slippers,  Seeking a bit of comfort.  I trudge to the door, now cracked wider than before.  I step out, but my living room isn’t in sight— What a fright to see snow stretching everywhere.  A sleeping arctic wolf replaces the hatstand,  My Christmas tree is now a snowy, white marvel.  I turn around, my door is gone,  My house is nowhere to be found.  But in the distance, I see a log cabin, glowing warm  Beneath the large, white tree.  A shelter from the cold. I run, following foot...