Wails and whirls of icy wind
crash into the two story building
and swell from house to house.
A shadowy realm past twilight
creeps into the earth’s atmosphere.

The violent storm of night
whips around my face
stealing my breath like
an unwanted kiss.

The bitter cold burns
pockets of nerves
down my throat, and
my mind is forsaken.

Thrust forward by the twisting air,
I see a gate,
broken through years of neglect,
wildy swinging open and shut.
A scarlet soaked rust drips
from iron rod to iron rod.

Jolts of thunder light up the floor
covered in shards of leaves
that break under the wind’s presence
wildly swirling and swiveling in
neurotic patterns like the mangled
collage of an obsessive.

At the foot of the front steps of
this long ago abandoned house,
the atmosphere grows bolder
like the sound of wind chimes
overwhelmed by the treachery of
an angry night.

Tattered shingles clinging
to the roof of rotted planks,
splitting through their center,
clang and clamor for death.

Ice forms like
distorted patterns of winter
scattering the surface
of anorexic tree limbs.
A suffocating chill grabs
hold of its roots.

And my cries for release
from this purgatory
are muffled by my shadow
as it sways in a circular motion
mocking patterns of life.

© 2016 Cyndi Piña, All Rights Reserved