My lungs start to wheeze
like the sounds of faraway seagulls,
my brain roars like a blow torch
and my heart rises in my craw
like a fist of lava.
A squirrel shudders
in the crotch of a hawthorne tree
when a blinding thundercloud of crows
sweeps down the street and screams
for easy prey.
Not knowing
which way to turn, he holds
on tight until a few feathers drift
by & small animals
can breathe again.