* * *
I woke with wet eyes and cheeks, tangled
in my own bedclothes, afraid of the shadow.
Something chasing me—an unknown terror
and the most familiar of my existence.
Not slavering jaws or sudden falling from a cliff
just a great, black, terrible shadow. Chasing me.
It once lived in the closet, waiting for me.
And at the end of long, dark hallways.
It lives in the woods, hidden by trees,
flattened by headlights and red bull.
And in the flickering green numbers
at three am night after night after night.
* * *
Now I have lit the candles of the between
to keep vigil as I wait for the dawn.