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.
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