The air is gelid, it's as if I’ve touched the spiraled stove again. This time it’s all over. I rock on my heels, matching the tempo of the passing seconds. I wait until the warmth encases me. My nails become brittle, they crack; crescent fragments sink into glass. It is a familiar feeling, waiting.
Red cardinals flutter, a vibrant spry
The rosy petals of a blooming rose
A wildfire dances the sky
Crimson strawberries sundry groves
Raindrops on my windshield, a nocturnal symmetry,
Headlights carve through the darkness - black bear trinity.
Lost in reverie, like race cars through thunder’s track,
Will I ever go back there? Back?
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