Metamorphosis

A house and car can be connected. In a way that’s unexpected. When I am distressed. I can feel the crest. I can be on top of a hill. At the same time as my windowsill. Looking beyond my home. I sense a horrible tone. My magic, Almost makes me sick. I tell her, It feels like a painful burr. In my hair. But she doesn’t care. She thinks I’m imagining things. Even as my premonition sings. In the news the next day. There was a car accident, to my dismay. I sensed it, but I should really know. To be a guardian Angel in the snow. I should have been there, on the passengers side. I could saved him while he cried. But instead, I watched a TV show. When I could have saved him from the snow.