Sleet on the way home,
the wind’s incisors. What
do you say to a man
who is dying? I miss
the turn for the exit,
three times around
the parking garage’s
flattened concrete
helix. I vacate
my spot, I leave
it wanting. The heart
is a door that opens
and shuts.
OPTIONAL POETRY 
well written
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thanks!
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Wonderful and sad.
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Thank you, crow
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beautiful observation
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thank you
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Vivid description, and quite insightful. Excellent choice of words.
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thanks!
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