I Felt A Chill

Air of the elevator to the third floor,

like faces of the people you used to know,

like chemical ash of melted candles,

like the smell of your house

now that you don't live there.

Earth of the avian grave in the park,

like broken bookshelves falling apart,

like the color of your best friend's blanket,

and the sound of her sister

outside on the phone.

Branches writhe and come alive,

possessed by Winter to revive.