Call

It came to me one coward dusk Slithering like a thief The hissing not a serpent’s hush But that of disturbed grasses. The moon, miser of his loaned glow Glistened in conspiracy But not a single ray helped my feet tread on. The voice tiptoed, I was charmed To take a step ahead Then suddenly the whispers of the critters prevailed The voice hanged in denouement But I sauntered still as the voice maimed its call A house appeared in sight I trembled up the stairs a shadow passed A girl in black stood by I screamed! Her eyes a crow’s piercing through my deepest being I grabbed her gown and tore it Mirror! Judged 6th Place in Tracie Indigo Dreamweaver’s Between Nightmares and Dreams Contest