The Wind I Taste

Cool, crisp wind across my face Brings the pollen to my lung It festers there, all I taste Choking on the bitter mace My last bell might be rung Cool, crisp wind across my face Dressed in gown of yellow lace These old songs to be sung It festers there, all I taste Day and night my gait doth pace Out the window all reason flung Cool, crisp wind across my face Breathing subdued inside this case The pollen swells my tongue It festers there, all I taste Slow infection, losing the race Memories pile up like dung Cool, crisp wind across my face It festers there, all I taste.