i am the sawdust/sticking to the crevices of the garage floor

i am the smell of evergreen and cedar chips/on the wet air of the woods

i am the reflection of tail lights/flashed in the rutted puddles

i am the sound of train horns/riding eddies of cold winter air

i am a midwest city sleeping/halted still in its big tracks

i am the fog/floating in the dusk of the street lamps

i am the lightning and the thunder/crawling over the bluffs of loess and trees

i am the damp basement walls/steeped in summer

i am the heady nostalgia/filling lungs with ache and contentment