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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
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