Level 4 Smell

The concrete ramp unwound,

a spiral down.

The air grew thick with oil and bleach.

Fluorescent tubes, a sickly crown,

hummed over painted lines.

Each pillar numbered, plain and gray.

A level smell, exhaust and clean.

I walked this path a time or two,

to wait, or to retrieve.

A place that held no memory,

but witnessed so much grief.