Sheets and Sticks

The wind is finding it's way into the corners. Frost is building on the slides. Mary is lost. The black sedan is circling the neighborhood. I remember the field's shape. Four trees were grouped like toddlers around a dead bird. Rain has begun to turn to ice. Mary was wearing a yellow raincoat. The towers are buzzing. The sedan is surrounded by a sea of pulsating lights. The wind is picking up. They are on the phone filling the air. The snow begins to take hold.