Shiver

Tickles down your spine

The wind creaks,

rattles,

shakes,

tortures the rusty iron bridging the two walls.

Rumbling is felt along the cold floor,

welcoming the acidic draft,

which carps my bare ankles.

A trail of hills and valleys sprout along my body,

bumps of fear and uncertainty,

I shiver.

Hairs rise along my arm,

alert of the unwanted predator,

ready to attack.

A progression of shakes,

crawl down my spine,

shaking my body,

cold.

I keep shaking,

lost in an uncontrollable state,

streams staining my rosed complexion,

cradled alone,

unprotected,

I shiver.

Reviews

[Jonathan Brooks]

Great poem! I really loved the way that you described goosebumps and shivering in a fresh, new way